Hiding in Plain Sight
by limona
Summary: Bella is a witness in peril. Emmett Cullen is the deputy assigned to protect her. When the witness protection program isn't safe, Emmett asks Bella to pose as his brother Edward's fiancée until the trial. AU, AH, ExB.
1. February 29 to March 14, 2008

**Hiding in Plain Sight**

**Disclaimer:** All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Summary: **Bella is a witness in peril. Emmett Cullen is the deputy assigned to protect her. When the witness protection program isn't safe, Emmett hides Bella where he can keep an eye on her. He hides her in his brother's house. ExB, AU, AH

**Author's Note: **A very special thanks to movieandbookgirl, who patiently listened while I ironed out plot issues, and read over more than one iteration of the first chapter. A great big thank you is also owed to Debussy_This, who generously beta'ed this chapter with such verve that I couldn't resist posting.

**Preface**

Say you were going about your business, doing your job, and you found out something terrible about your employer.

You found out your employer killed people. More than one thousand people over the last fifteen years.

You even found some evidence to turn over to authorities, but the evidence wouldn't be conclusive without your eyewitness testimony. If you were to agree to testify against your employer, it was a certainty that your (former) employer would try to kill you. There would be no guarantees that you would survive until the trial.

What would you do? Would you testify?

Of course you would.

You wouldn't be able to sleep at night if you didn't.

And if you were to die before justice was served, at least you would die knowing you tried to do the right thing.

There are worse ways to die.

**Chapter 1 **

**Friday, February 29, 2008**

**Edward**

I sipped my coffee in the kitchen, waiting for Jessica to waken. It wasn't a pleasant conversation I was about to initiate, but this afternoon I was flying to Ecuador. I didn't want to come home and have it later.

After I'd read most of the Weekend Edition of the Wall Street Journal, a sleepy Jessica materialized. Her hair was mussed and she was wearing my bathrobe. Truly, it was a sight that would have been endearing last week. But last week, I hadn't known her well enough to realize I couldn't stand her.

"Good morning," I said, holding out a cup of coffee.

Jessica looked around the kitchen, confused. "Where's breakfast?"

"Have a seat, Jess."

Something in my tone must have tipped her off, because she did not take the coffee and she did not sit. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at me. "You're shitting me."

I braced myself for the words I had to say. I set her coffee cup down, a little relieved she didn't want it. It was steaming hot, and I wouldn't put it past her to throw it at me.

"Things aren't working between us, and I think it would be best if we broke it off now." My voice was even, my face was blank. I'd learned over the years that less emotion was better in times like these.

Jessica stamped her foot. "You couldn't have fucking told me this last night, before I swallowed?"

"Last night, I still thought maybe we could work it out."

"As in, you wanted to screw me one last time to make sure you didn't want me? Am I not good enough for you and your snobby family?"

I sighed. "It's not you, it's me." That was mostly true. If I hadn't been so sensitive to her social-ladder-climbing ways and her complete and utter lack of self actualization, maybe we could have made a go of it. Also, I was not overly fond of her fake boobs.

"That's shit, and you know it," Jessica snapped.

I continued on as though she hadn't spoken. "You're a girl who deserves a commitment, and I know now that I can't give it to you."

"So I'm just not good enough." Jessica glared at me. "Fine. But mark my words, Edward Cullen, the day will come when you'll be sorry you crossed me!"

Jessica stormed up the stairs, grabbed her clothes, and left immediately. She was still wearing my robe and she didn't have shoes on. She slammed the door behind her.

_Good riddance_, I thought, and I went upstairs to pack.

**Thursday & Friday, March 13, 2008 – March 14, 2008**

**Emmett**

"As much as I would love to stay here all day, I'm going to be late for work." I extricated myself from my sexy wife's arms and tried to roll out of bed.

"Screw work." Rosalie tackled me, throwing her whole body on top of mine to stop me from rolling over. She straddled me, and her hair tickled my neck as she leaned over me to kiss me. "Come on, baby, how about some morning love?"

"You know I'm working on an important case, Rose." I would have gone on, but Rosalie's lips trailed down my chest and kept going. I couldn't take my eyes off her beautiful blond head. I was an insanely lucky man.

"I know. You've been working weekends for the last month. And I really think we need some time alone." Her tongue darted out, flicking out along my skin. When she took me in her mouth, I gave up. Fiery meteors could have been flying all around us, and I wouldn't have noticed, not as long as she kept me in her talented little mouth.

And then I heard a sound I couldn't ignore, as much as I wanted to. It was the pounding of tiny feet in the hallway.

"Is our door locked?"

Rosalie immediately removed her mouth and threw the covers over me. If that didn't answer my question, the answer came when the door flew open.

"Mommy, Emma won't stop playing with my Barbies. She's messing up their hair, make her stop!"

Rosalie was up and out of bed and into her robe in ten seconds flat. "Libby, those Barbies belong to Emma too. Why don't we go make breakfast?" She pushed Libby out of our room and closed the door behind them. I heard Libby continuing to whine about Emma as they walked down the hall.

_My wife is a saint. _If I had to deal with that kind of whiny shit all day, I'd jump off a cliff. I took a deep breath. I was going to work after all; no morning lovin' for me. Rose was right, though. We needed some alone time. As soon as I made sure my witness was settled in, I was going to take Rose on a nice long vacation somewhere. Maybe Isle Esme. Mom and Dad would be happy to take the girls for a couple of weeks.

I showered and dressed for work. By the time I made it into the kitchen, there was a plate with eggs, bacon and toast in front of my chair. Libby and Emma were both at the table in their booster seats, and Rose was pouring orange juice.

"Have I mentioned lately how much I love you?"

"Eat your eggs, Emmett."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Save your appreciation for tonight." Her icy blue eyes sparkled at me. I knew that look. I was definitely going to come home on time tonight.

I polished off breakfast, kissed all my girls, and drove to work. I arrived at the office around nine. It wasn't late by any means, but I usually arrived earlier- especially considering recent events.

I flipped on my computer and checked my e-mail. Nothing critical in my in-box this morning.

"Morning, Cullen."

"Hi Banner," I answered without looking up. I was busy reviewing the latest paperwork on Marie Swan.

Marie was the reason I'd been slammed busy at work for the last two months. I was a deputy U.S. Marshal who specialized in witness security, a.k.a. WitSec. Marie was the witness of the decade, if not the last three decades. She was going to be the lynchpin in a case to put away the Volturi, the godfathers of the modern day mob. At least, she would be the lynchpin if we could keep her alive long enough to testify.

The Volturi had killed people in almost every state in the country, so everywhere had jurisdiction. The trial was going to be held in North Carolina, a state with a long and distinguished history of carrying out the death penalty. I don't live in North Carolina, but I was assigned the witness because I'm the best there is. I have never lost a witness and I don't plan to start now.

I didn't realize, at first, how difficult it would be to protect her until the trial. Usually my job isn't all that difficult until the trial happens, but people were already trying to kill her.

Ever since she became my charge, she'd been a magnet for trouble. I'd given her the new identity following standard operating procedure, and two days later I got a desperate call from her. She was being followed. We were able to rescue her. After that, we watched her morning and night at a safe house while we set up another identity. Two weeks into her second identity, a bullet just missed her head as she walked out of her apartment building. Again, we managed to extract her, but it made me queasy. This wasn't how things were supposed to happen. My witnesses were supposed to disappear. Hell, my witnesses _did_ disappear. I'd never seen anything quite like this.

Marie was in her third identity now. Third time's a charm, right? I'd personally scrubbed all the contacts to make sure they were clean. I took every possible precaution. I even sent her to a different jurisdiction. She was going to some little town in Nevada. If Marie could make it in Nevada for more than two weeks, maybe things would be calm down enough that Rose and I could get away.

"Hey, Banner, did you get an update on Marie in Nevada?"

Banner stuck his head in my office. "Haven't had your coffee yet, have you? Remember you signed off on Marie going to California just before you left last night."

"Who put through the paperwork?" I asked with forced casualness. I hadn't signed shit for her to go to California.

"James. He said you needed the switch ASAP; ran the paperwork through right after you left."

_Fuck. Of all mornings to be late. _My own goddamned office had a rat. Or many rats. No wonder her other two placements failed.

I told Banner I was going to get a coffee. As soon as I was out of the building, I called Marie. Thankfully, she answered the phone immediately. I had her ditch her contacts and go straight to a public place. I didn't dare call in police protection; too risky. There was no telling if the California office was clean either, so I didn't call for back-up. I didn't tell anyone where I was going; I just hopped a plane.

It wasn't until I was on the plane to California that I realized I needed to call Rosalie. I wasn't going to be home for dinner.

Thirty-odd hours and one hair-raising chase later, I was back in town. Against all odds, Marie was tucked away safely. Was I ready to face the wrath of Rosalie?

No, I wasn't ready.

I was living on a night without sleep and I was worried sick about Marie. This morning, as we drove back to Washington, I actually begged her not to testify. I've never had a witness I couldn't protect before. If she died… well, I really didn't want it on my conscience.

I wasn't ready to go back to the office, either. I had to have some time to think about James. Was he crooked, or was he someone else's tool? And when I found the crooked person, what was I going to do about it? I needed a drink. Or five drinks.

If I wasn't going to the office, and I wasn't going home, where was I going to go? I considered calling my little sister, but at six months pregnant she wouldn't want to watch me drink. Instead, I decided to pay a visit to my younger brother. He was a bit self-absorbed, but at least his fridge would be well-stocked with beer. And let's face it: what I really needed was a place to escape for a couple of hours.

**Edward**

Home at last. The trip back from Ecuador had been exhausting. We hit turbulence on the way into the airport, and even now after two hours on the ground, I was still queasy.

My cell phone vibrated in my pocket, and I almost ignored it. There was no one I wanted to talk to right now. All I wanted was some peace, some quiet, and a beer; but, curiosity got the better of me, and I decided to at least check the caller ID.

My brother was calling. Odd. He didn't usually call during business hours. I flipped my phone open to hear Emmett asking if I was home. I was. There was no way I was going back into work after that flight. He asked if my fridge had beer in it. It did. He said he'd be here in twenty minutes.

Huh. Emmett sounded stressed, but I was too jet-lagged to think about it.

He had a key, so when he knocked, I didn't bother answering the door. Sure enough, he walked right in. He sat down across from me in the living room. We sat in silence for a few minutes.

"I saw Jessica this week." Emmett said in a flat voice. "Guess you two broke up?"

I shrugged. "I realized she was shallow."

"Mom will be disappointed."

I launched into an explanation about why Jessica would have been a disaster as part of our family, but Emmett wasn't listening. "Emmett?"

"What?"

"Did you hear a word I just said?"

Emmett didn't bother to glance in my direction before answering. "Mom just wants you to be happy."

"No, she wants more grandchildren."

"Well, you are late," Emmett said absently. "Rosie and I have been married six years now and have two kids to show for it. Alice is due in three months."

"Between Mom and Alice, the obsession with my personal life is out of hand." Sitting on the couch and staring at Emmett's listless face was making me more agitated rather than less. I stood up and paced over to the window and concentrated on watching the trees that lined my driveway blow in the wind.

Emmett shrugged. "Whatever."

"What's eating you?" I asked, my back to him, my eyes still fixed outside.

"Work stuff," Emmett mumbled.

I tore my eyes away from leaves fluttering in the breeze to regard Emmett closely. "You need to find a new, less stressful job. Work stuff is always getting you down. What is it this time?" I walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. I extracted a bottle of beer and expertly tossed it across the room to Emmett.

Emmett grabbed the beer out of mid-air and twisted it open in one fluid motion. It was reassuring to see that his depression about work had not slowed his reflexes. He took a quick swig. "It's confidential, you know that."

"I know the _who_ is confidential." I took a beer out of the refrigerator for myself, a foreign one that required a bottle opener. "But surely you can extemporize a bit on the _what_."

Emmett shook his head at me, as if I were crazy to ask him to share. "Alright, but if I tell you, you'll just be depressed too."

"I think I can handle it."

Emmett took another long swig of beer and put his feet up on the coffee table. "You've heard of the Volturi, those three nutbags from Italy?"

"Who hasn't? They're richer than Croesus and their family has been slowly buying up Western civilization for the last several hundred years." I settled back into my leather armchair across from Emmett. His face had regained some of his native animation, and he was much more interesting now that he was going to tell me what was bothering him.

"You've also heard the rumors about all the people around them who conveniently disappear?"

"Sure, but there's no proof of anything."

"Correction, there was no proof of anything."

A light bulb went on in my head. "You've got a witness to protect, don't you?"

Emmett nodded grimly.

Emmett worked for the WitSec, the U.S. Witness Protection Program. Most of the people he protected were criminals themselves, but even a criminal didn't deserve to die for testifying. Testifying against the Volturi was almost certain to end in the death.

I winced. "Best of luck to the poor sod."

"Girl."

"What?" My previous train of thought came to a screeching halt as the word he said slowly sunk in.

"The person coming forward is a girl," Emmett said. "She's twenty-four years old, and she's completely innocent of any crime." He finished his bottle of beer in one long drink and then set the bottle down on my glass coffee table with a clink. "You got any more beer?"

I closed my eyes."Tell me someone is trying to talk her out of testifying."

Emmett took his feet off the table and stood up. He walked over to the fridge and surveyed its contents. "Why don't you have any more American beer cold? All this stuff in your fridge is foreign shit."

"Belgian beer is most certainly not shit," I answered automatically. This was an argument we had often.

Emmett muttered something about uppity beer and then grabbed two bottles from the refrigerator. One in each hand, he flicked them against my granite countertop and they both popped open simultaneously. He was such a show-off.

"You're going to scratch the finish doing that."

"What's the point of having a stone countertop if you can't hit things on it?"

"I have a bottle opener, you know."

Both beers open, he was suddenly serious again. "I've told her not to testify, begged her even."

"Aren't you supposed to encourage people to testify?"

"Edward," Emmett said, as though he were talking to a small child. "I tell people to testify because I can protect them. I promise to do my damnedest to protect them. I don't see how I can protect this girl, so I don't want her to testify. I can't have her death on my conscience. "

"You asked her not to testify, and she's doing it anyway?" I leaned forward, sitting on the edge of my chair, genuinely interested.

"She said her days were numbered no matter what." Emmett's face twisted in regret. "Said she wanted fry them so they couldn't hurt anyone else."

"The world needs more people like that. Too bad they're all dead." I took a long drink of my Stella Artois.

"They're not all dead," Emmett snapped. "Believe it or not, little brother, I've never lost a witness."

"Where are you going to hide her?"

"I couldn't tell you that, even if I knew."

I was appalled. "You mean you don't even know?"

"Don't laugh, but right now I have her in jail." Emmett looked away, not meeting my eyes.

"I'm not laughing, because that's not funny." I realized I couldn't sit any longer. I stood up, pacing through my living room.

Emmett's eyes followed me around the room, but he stayed seated on the couch. "Look, nowhere is safe. I have reason to believe that even WitSec has rats. We had a close scrape with her last month. And yesterday. At this point, she's toast anywhere I would send her."

"What are you going to do?"

"Well," Emmett said, "She's not keen on this jail thing. I think I'm going to try a mental health facility next."

"When is the trial?" I paused in my pacing to meet Emmett's gaze.

"Oh, it's probably at least a year off." Emmett set another empty beer bottle on the coffee table and started in on his third. "You know how these things go."

"You're going to shuffle a 24-year-old woman, a person who has done nothing wrong and is only trying to help people, between jails and mental facilities for a year? Are you kidding me?"

"You don't understand. It's the only thing I've come up with. So far, she has been ridiculously blasé about the danger. But yesterday she looked at me with her big doe eyes and asked me to just keep her safe until the trial so this wouldn't all be for nothing."

"Does she understand that even if they're convicted, they're going to appeal, and her nightmare could go on for years?"

"I've told her that," Emmett said, his face uncharacteristically sad.

"Tell me again why our justice system insists on persecuting the innocent?"

"Edward, we've been through this before."

"I'm sorry," I sighed. "I know you can't do anything about it."

"Told you this would depress you. I got so depressed that I even considered letting her move in with me, but I can't risk Rosie and the girls."

My eyes narrowed. "That's allowed?"

"Her case is a little bit special. This is such a big deal that I can do anything that keeps her alive. Do you honestly think they would normally let me hide someone in prison?"

I stood again, walking over to the big bay window that overlooked my well-manicured flower garden in the back of the house. I stared out the window for several long moments, considering. "What does she look like?"

"Why?" Emmett asked, suddenly defensive. "You think I only lose sleep over the pretty girls? I really resent that, Edward."

"That's not what I meant. You said she's twenty-four. I just wondered if she's attractive."

"She's no Rosalie, but she's pretty. No one would throw her out of bed. She's wholesome."

"Wholesome, like granola, or wholesome like girl-next-door?"

"Girl next door, definitely." Emmett set his third empty beer bottle on the coffee table.

I was considering an idea that was borderline ridiculous. I didn't even know this girl, but I was concerned for her welfare. If she shuffled between mental institutions for a year, she'd probably be crazy by the time she finally was able to testify. No one should have to go through that. "You know," I said slowly, drawing out the words, "She could stay here."

"What?"

I turned to face Emmett so he would see I meant what I was saying. "I'm not married; I'm not worried about protecting anyone but myself. After crazy Lauren started stalking me, I installed top-notch security. This is no mental institution, but…"

Emmett stared at me, unblinking. "You're serious?"

"Why not?"

"What would you do, hide her here?"

"The house is certainly big enough, but no. We would make up some story, tell people she's my fiancée or something."

"You're the one who needs a mental institution. Mom would never go along with that."

I snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. Mom has been waiting for me to have a fiancée for the last five years."

"Wait, you wouldn't tell mom the truth?"

"Mom can't lie to save her life. Besides, this witness stuff is supposed to be confidential. Wouldn't it be a breach to have the family know?" Another thought struck me, and I started to really warm to my idea. "Besides, if I have a fiancée, Mom and Alice will stop meddling in my life."

"There are so many problems with this idea. Not the least of which is that they'll want to plan a wedding." Emmett shook his head.

"And yet, I can tell you're intrigued." I'd always been good at reading people, and I could see Emmett was considering my idea. That he was taking me seriously was a sign of how worried he was for this girl.

"You would really take her in? Until the trial? Sight unseen?" Emmett looked at me intently. "What if you hate her?"

"How could I hate her? You said she's wholesome and you like her enough that you begged her not to testify." It hadn't occurred to me that her company might be unappealing. Even if that were the case, the house was certainly big enough for us to minimize our contact.

"I don't know, Edward," Emmett said apprehensively. "She might not want…"

"Seriously? You think anyone would rather live in a mental institution than hang out in my six thousand square foot house?" That idea was unfathomable to me.

"What about your social life?"

"Jessica and I broke up. It's not as though there's anyone to be offended by the idea."

"You understand the trial is like a year away, right? Do you expect me to believe you can stay away from other women all the way until the trial to keep up the pretense of being engaged?"

I shrugged. I couldn't really promise not to have sex for a whole year, and Emmett knew it. "If I meet someone else, I'll be discreet."

Emmett's brow furrowed, and I guess my promise of discretion was enough for him. "This is going to take some doing, you know."

"I know you're more than capable." I slapped him on the shoulder.

"I'll see what I can do. I'll call you when I've made the arrangements. You're sure you want to do this?" Emmett gave me a hard look.

I considered it carefully. A year was a long time to live with a stranger, but the idea of some girl rotting her life away in jail while she waited for a chance to put bad guys in jail was just too much for me. "I'm not jumping up and down about it, but I think it's probably the best option for your girl right now."

"All right, Edward," Emmett said after another searching glance. "I'm trusting you to take care of her. Don't screw up."


	2. March 20, 2008

**Author's Note: **This chapter owes many thank-yous to movieandbookgirl and Debussy_This for their encouragement, beta help, and positive energy.

**Chapter 2**

**Thursday, March 20, 2008**

**Bella**

When the car exploded, all the hair on my arms stood straight up. I don't know if it was the fear or the vibration from the explosion or the heat or what. All I knew was that I was alive, and it felt amazing. Maybe Emmett's complicated scheme would work after all.

My contact, Jack, and I hiked through the woods for what felt like hours. When we came out on the other side of the forest, we split up. I was supposed to walk to a little diner in La Push. Jack was entering the witness protection program and meeting with his own contact. I felt really guilty about that. For Emmett's plan to work, both the people in the car had to be "dead" in the public's eyes. Jack was going somewhere completely different and receiving a new identity, all because of me. Hopefully, nobody but Emmett and the D.A. knew I was still alive. The idea was that this would keep me safe until the trial. Staying safe during the trial would be a whole other story, but Emmett told me not to borrow trouble.

I kept to the cover of the trees for most of my walk to the diner. I would be meeting somebody here, a man named Jacob. He was the gardener for the man I would be staying with, and he had family in La Push.

Yes, you heard that right: I was being placed with a man so rich he had his own gardener. Ever since it became clear that I knew too much about the Volturi, I had stayed in a variety of different places. Some were nicer than others. The jail sucked the hardest. But now, now Emmett thought I would be safest staying in the private residence of some rich guy and pretending to be his fiancée. He called it hiding in plain sight. It was all kinds of twisted, but what could I say? No, please, I prefer the mental facility?

I entered the diner and sat down at the counter. I ordered a cup of coffee and a sandwich and settled in to wait. The gardener was supposed to pick me up at 1:00, and that was a little more than twenty minutes away.

As I nibbled my food, I stared off into space, thinking. I was glad to be out of the jail and on to a new place, but I was a little sad, too. If all went according to plan, I wasn't going to see Emmett again until the trial. It sounded silly, but I was really going to miss him. He had been the one constant in my life these last two months. And… I may have had an eensy weensy little crush on him.

Okay, I confess, it was more than a little crush. But who could blame me? Emmett had saved my life three separate times already. And it didn't hurt that he was built like a modern-day Hercules with curly hair and dimples to die for. And he was smart, too. He had kept me one step ahead of all my would-be assassins. Sometimes I felt as though we were starring together in the action flick of the summer. Then I would remember that if it were a movie, Emmett wouldn't be wearing a wedding ring and I would be drop-dead gorgeous. It's also worth noting that in a movie, I would live happily ever after at the end.

When you enter the witness protection program, you receive a new identity. I've already had several, because it turns out that even the witness protection program isn't immune to Volturi spies. You can pick any name, but you usually keep your same first name. So far, I've been Marie Wilson, Marie Canton, and Marie Smithson. For my latest identity, Emmett, the deputy U.S. Marshal assigned to my case, asked me to choose a different first name to be extra secure. I picked Isabella. Isabella was the name I had always planned to give my daughter, if I had one. Since the odds of any children at all seemed unlikely at best, I decided to use the name on myself.

I'd always tried to live my life without regrets, and I was glad of it now. I wouldn't even take back my decision to work for the Volturi. If I managed to testify against them, I'd be taking a stand for something that matters. You couldn't ask for much more out of life than that. At least, that's what I told myself.

The only regret I actually had was so stupid I could never say it aloud. Back before I knew my number would be up at the tender age of twenty-four, I was saving myself for marriage. Now I kind of wished I'd gone all the way with Mike Newton in the back room of his parents' sporting goods store when I had the chance. In my wildest fantasies, Emmett would somehow find out my secret and give me a night to remember before the trial started. That was not going to happen. Even if he were up for it, I doubt his wife would appreciate it.

A tap on my shoulder startled me out of my reverie.

"Isabella?"

I turned around and found myself looking up into a pair of friendly dark eyes set in a tan face. I smiled instinctively. "You must be Jacob." _And you are much better looking than I envisioned a gardener would be. _

"Wow."

"What?" _Wow_ was not usually the first thing people said when they met me.

"Just wow," he repeated. "You're not what I expected at all."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"I didn't realize my boss had such good taste. I was dreading this assignment. I thought you'd be a plastic, materialistic bitch." He laughed.

"How do you know I'm not? I've barely said two words to you." Jacob wasn't what I was expecting either, though I didn't know any gardeners. He was tall and well-built, probably from spending hours working outside. He appeared to be about my age, possibly a bit younger. He was appealing and winsome, and I found myself not displeased that we would be in a car together for three and a half hours.

"People who say that you can't judge a book by its cover are lying." He glanced down at my half-eaten sandwich. "Are you ready? I don't want to rush you, but if I'm late the boss will have my head."

I regarded my sandwich, and decided I wasn't that hungry anyway. I was rarely hungry these days. I plunked some money on the counter and stood up. "Let's go."

Jacob escorted me out of the diner and into an old VW Rabbit. We rode in companionable silence for a while before he started to ask me questions. The questions started off small and insignificant. He asked about my favorite color, my favorite kinds of music. We chitchatted amiably in that vein for the first hour of the drive, then Jacob went silent for a few minutes. I could tell that he was aching to say something.

"Go ahead and say it."

He took a deep breath, and then said all in a rush, "How did a nice girl like you end up with Edward Cullen?"

I had no idea how to answer that. I hadn't even known the man's last name until this moment. And then a thought struck me. _Cullen? How weird that he has the same last name as Emmett._

"What do you mean?" I tried to sound surprised, because that seemed like the right emotion for a prospective fiancée to convey. Jacob's tone was making me nervous. I was essentially going to live in the house of a complete stranger. A stranger about whom Jacob didn't seem to think too highly. Jacob seemed like a nice guy. What was I in for?

"Well, what do you see in him, then?"

"He has many redeeming qualities," I said loftily, desperately hoping it were true. He'd never met me, he knew I was a danger magnet, and he agreed to take me in anyway. That had to say something about his character, right?

"I guess I just don't get it. He's so cold, and you're, well, not."

This conversation was rapidly going downhill. I needed to change the subject, and fast. We needed to talk about anything but me. Not only did I not know his boss at all, but I barely even knew myself in this new identity. I asked about Jacob's car because it was the first thing that came to mind, and that seemed to work. Soon we were talking like old friends.

The rest of the drive was smooth, and I found myself smiling and laughing for the first time in a weeks. Jacob was funny, and we really clicked. I was almost sorry when the drive came to an end.

As we pulled up to a wrought-iron gate, Jacob gave me a sideways glance. "I know I'm not rich or anything, but if you ever start to wonder why you're with him… I'm the opposite of cold."

"I'll keep that in mind." A smile tugged at my lips. I couldn't help it. Flirting with Jacob felt so delightfully normal, and I hadn't felt that way in a long time.

The gate opened, and we drove up the driveway to a large, white house. It had a long balcony over a front porch that was supported by round white pillars. There was a covered catwalk that led from the house to the sizeable two-story garage. I'd seen houses like this on TV, but I'd never actually been in a house like it. I was intimidated, but I rationalized that the house probably wasn't that big for someone who was rich. What did I know about rich people's houses? I grew up in a two-bedroom bungalow made of cinderblocks.

Jacob helped me out of the car, his hand lingering on mine longer than necessary. He smiled at me and I couldn't help but smile back as he led me up the walk to the imposing front door.

The door opened before we reached it, and I realized someone was waiting for us.

When we reached the door, I was stunned to see a familiar face.

"Emmett!"

"Hey you," he answered with a huge grin. "It's good to see you, Isabella."

"Bella," I corrected.

"How was the ride?"

"Good," I said. I looked over at Jacob, but he was looking over Emmett's shoulder. I realized that Jacob's hand was on my arm. I shook it off, suddenly self-conscious.

"I've got to get to work," Jacob said gruffly. He stalked away from me rather quickly.

That was when I saw him, standing several feet behind Emmett, watching me.

Edward Cullen.

Even from across the room, his piercing green eyes immobilized me with their intensity. His skin was pale but flawless. His tousled, coppery hair glinted in the dim, indoor light. He was wearing a dark, pin-striped suit, but no tie. The first few buttons on his crisp, white shirt under his suit jacket were unbuttoned. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at him.

He walked forward until he was standing next to Emmett, his gaze intent on me.

"Bella, how nice to see you." He inclined his head toward me, and I realized this was his version of an introduction in case anyone was listening. It wouldn't do to shake my hand when we supposedly were dating or engaged or whatever he had told people. Jacob could well be listening to this whole interchange.

I let out the breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. "Hi."

Yes, I sounded mentally challenged, but I would dare any girl in my shoes to do better. When Emmett told me that I would be playing fiancée to a rich man, I assumed he meant an _old_ rich man. I had mentally prepared myself to be the sweet, young thing on some geezer's arm. This man could not be older than thirty. Worse, he was completely out of my league. No wonder Jacob couldn't figure out what he saw in me.

I tore my eyes away from him and looked instead at Emmett. "I didn't know you would be here."

Emmett chuckled. "I wouldn't miss welcoming you to my little brother's house."

Emmett reached up and ruffled Edward's hair. Edward's jaw tightened, and he was visibly annoyed.

My eyes widened. They were brothers? They didn't look at all alike. Where Emmett was muscular and heavy-set, Edward was long and lean. Their coloring was completely different, but a closer look revealed similarities around the jaw and through the forehead.

"I'm sure you'll want to settle in," Edward said, effectively interrupting my silent assessment. "Your room is up the stairs, the second door on the left."

I nodded. Was I being dismissed? It seemed that way. I stepped around Edward, giving him a wide berth, and walked over to the staircase. The stairs were shallow, and my legs were exhausted from the hike through the forest. I tried to take two of the steps at the same time, but I tripped and banged my knee. Pain lanced through it, and I stayed still for several seconds, waiting for the pain to abate.

That was when I realized I could hear them talking. They were talking about me.

"It's not worth firing him over," I heard Emmett say. "She's not your real fiancée."

"He doesn't know that," Edward snarled. "The last thing I need is for the press to publish a story about my fiancée cheating on me with the gardener."

"Come on, you're getting carried away."

"She was encouraging him."

"She wasn't. She just hasn't had much to smile about lately."

There was a pause in their conversation, and I wondered if I missed something. Then I realized Edward had turned around and was staring at me.

"Do you need assistance, Isabella?" His voice was icy cold, and my cheeks burned as I realized he knew I had been eavesdropping.

"No, thank you," I said. I picked myself up with as much dignity as I could and trekked up the remaining stairs. The second door on the left was open, and I stepped inside. This room was bigger than my entire apartment back home. There were two large bay windows that took up most of the far wall, letting in late afternoon sun. There was a four-poster bed against the left wall, made up with fluffy white pillows and a pale blue duvet. On the right wall, there were two doors. One led to a closet the size of my childhood bedroom, complete with several sets of women's clothes and some pajamas. The other door, I discovered, led to a large bathroom complete with a whirlpool tub and a walk-in shower. The bathroom was tiled in varying shades of blue and white; and huge fluffy towels hung by the shower and bath.

_So this is how the other half lives_.

The bed looked inviting, but it had so much white on it that I was afraid to climb on it in my grimy clothes. Instead, I decided to try out the shower.

It was a fancy shower, complete with jets built into the wall. I'd never experienced anything quite so decadent. I must have stayed in there at least a half an hour, letting the jets massage all the stress out of my muscles. I kept wondering when I would run out of hot water, but it never happened.

Edward Cullen might not be the warmest man in the world, but I could definitely get used to living in his house.

**Edward**

Emmett was supposed to stay through dinner, but Libby, my five-year-old niece, had taken a tumble that required stitches. Rosalie needed Emmett at the hospital so she could stay home with their younger daughter Emma.

Bella was upstairs in her room. She was either settling in, sleeping, or afraid to come out. The caterer had dropped off dinner several hours ago. I didn't usually eat this early, but she was surely hungry.

I sighed. Our meeting this afternoon didn't go exactly the way I'd envisioned it. It had never occurred to me that sending the gardener to pick her up might be a bad idea. He's a kid, only twenty-two. Too late I realized that Bella was only two years older than he was. He realized it first, and I intensely disliked the way he had been looking at her. The way she smiled at him when she stepped out the car made me nervous. I wasn't jealous; after all, I had no claim on her. More like, I had assumed she would be so grateful I was giving her a nice place to stay that it wouldn't occur to her to do anything that might make me look bad. Flirting with my gardener would definitely make me look bad if anyone saw her. I mentally ran over my list of employees, wondering how many others might be of an appealing age to her. The pool boy, at nineteen, was a definite concern. We were going to have talk about this, and it wouldn't be pleasant.

I walked up the stairs and paused at her closed bedroom door. I hesitated a moment before knocking, but I didn't hear anything on the other side of the door. I knocked again softly, not wanting to startle her if she were sleeping.

No answer.

The grandfather clock at the top of the stairs said it was almost 6:00. I considered letting her sleep; she was probably exhausted, but I wasn't sure she'd even had time to eat lunch in La Push. I decided to wake her. She had no idea where anything in the kitchen was, and if she woke in the middle of the night hungry she wouldn't know what to do.

I knocked again, this time calling out as I opened the door.

The bed was empty.

Just as I realized she wasn't sleeping, the bathroom door opened. Bella emerged, clad in only a towel. I think we were equally surprised. I blurted an apology and strode out of her room as quickly as possible.

I put the lasagna in the oven to heat and set the table. I sat down at the dinner table and poured myself a glass of wine. I sipped the wine, a mellow Bordeaux blend, as I tried to forget what her creamy, slender legs looked like bare. I couldn't be thinking about her that way; we were going to have to live with each other for months at the very least. I was also fairly certain Emmett would kill me if I laid a hand on her.

Presently, Bella came down the stairs, dressed in the clothes that Emmett had obtained for her in anticipation of her arrival. They didn't fit her quite right, but I didn't have anything better to offer her to wear. Those clothes would hold her over until the weekend, and then she could shop with my sister.

Bella glanced around the downstairs warily, and then saw me in the dining room.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes," I called. "Would you like some wine?"

"No, thank you. I don't drink wine. Water for me, please."

Who doesn't drink wine? That was a bit unsettling. It would certainly limit her social options in my family's circle.

"There's a water filter on the tap. Push it down to engage it. Glasses are in the cabinet by the sink."

Bella brought her glass of water with her to the table and sat down across from me.

"I'm sorry I walked into your room uninvited; I thought I would wake you for dinner."

"It's okay," she said. She glanced around. "Are we alone?"

I nodded. "The house staff leaves at six, and Emmett had to leave. You can speak freely."

"I'm sorry I upset you earlier. I wasn't trying to ruin your image." Bella's eyes met mine; they were wide and sincere.

"I would appreciate it if, in the future, you could restrain yourself from encouraging the attentions of anyone while you're here, particularly my staff." We weren't off to a great start, but it wasn't as though we wouldn't have plenty of time together to work things out.

I couldn't tell how she took my words, because she was now looking down at the table.

The timer beeped, and I went to fetch the lasagna. I brought it back to the table in one hand, salad in the other hand. The bread was already set.

We started dinner in silence. I wasn't sure what I could and could not ask her. She now had a completely manufactured past. Should we talk about her fake past? Would it be too painful to talk about her real past? Was her real past top secret?

Bella broke the silence. "This lasagna is good. Did you make it?"

"It's catered."

"You catered dinner for me?" She was incredulous.

I explained, "I don't cook, and we obviously weren't going to go out for dinner."

"Sorry to inconvenience you," she said softly, her eyes focused on her plate.

"It's no trouble," I said quickly. It wasn't. On the rare nights I ate at home, I usually had food brought in anyway.

"Why are you doing this for me?" She glanced up at me with her big brown eyes, and I lost my train of thought for several seconds.

"It's the right thing to do." I forced myself to look away from her eyes. If I didn't, I would just keep staring, and that would surely make her even more uncomfortable. Emmett had described her as wholesome. Maybe compared to Rosalie she was, but Rosalie was the polar opposite of wholesome. Bella was lovely. Her long brown hair was straight and shiny. She had a pale, almost translucent complexion that was prone to blushing. Her eyes were brown and deep, set in a heart-shaped face.

"But, fiancée?" she asked, breaking my reverie. "That seems so complicated. Couldn't I just be a long lost cousin or something?"

I smiled thinly. "Unfortunately, I don't have any long lost cousins that the rest of my family doesn't know about. And since I'm not keen to live an entire year ignoring my family, I thought fiancée would be the most convenient."

"So instead you'll see them and let them believe you're going to marry me?"

"Sure." I shrugged. "They're used to me keeping personal things under wraps. We just won't set a date for the wedding. Couples do that all the time."

"So you're close to your family?" Bella took another bite of lasagna, and I found myself watching the way her lips closed over her fork.

I ripped my eyes from her lips and focused on my food instead. "Yes. They're the most important thing to me in the world."

She shook her head slowly. "There's no way they'll believe we're engaged."

"They will," I assured her. People believe what they want to, and my mother and sister wanted nothing more than to believe I had found someone to spend the rest of my life with. And when Bella left for the trial and our "engagement" dissolved, I would spend the next year avoiding their lectures about finding a wife by telling them that I needed time to recover from losing Bella. That part of my plan was genius.

Bella was pushing her salad around on her plate, still avoiding eye contact with me. "Not only am I a terrible liar, but they're going to ask all kinds of questions, like how we met and how you proposed."

"I've considered that," I assured her. "I took the liberty of creating a document of our history. I saved it on the laptop in your room. Obviously, I wrote it before we met, so it might need tweaking here and there."

"You got me a laptop?"

"I had an extra one lying around. Anyway, if you make changes, let me know and I'll read over your changes."

"Okay," Bella said. "That sounds reasonable enough."

_Here comes the awkward part._ "I also have a ring for you." I pulled the box out of my pocket and handed it to her.

Her eyes widened before she even opened the box. "You bought me a ring?"

"People are supposed to believe we're engaged." Emmett had told me her family was thoroughly middle class. The ring in the box probably cost more than all of her belongings combined, and that thought made me distinctly uncomfortable.

She opened the box gingerly, as if it might bite her. "This isn't a ring, it's a rock."

"You like it?" I hadn't spent a lot of time selecting it, but I had tried to pick something fashionable and tasteful.

"I can't wear this. It's huge."

"It's smaller than my sister's and my sister-in-law's." I didn't add that it was the smallest, cheapest ring I could buy that my mother wouldn't frown upon.

"I could hurt someone with this." Bella gave me a nervous look. "And you don't know this yet, but I'm not exactly graceful. I probably will hurt someone with it."

"If we were truly engaged, my fiancée would have a nice ring. I'm sorry you don't like it."

"It's not that I don't like it, it's just… What is this, like 4 carats?"

"Good eye. It's 3.8 carats, cushion cut, color grade F, clarity VSI, set in white gold." Yes, this was definitely awkward. From the look on her face, I was certain she had a good idea that the ring was obscenely expensive.

"This is two months' salary for you?"

No, it was less than two months' salary, if you counted what I received from my trust fund. Should I tell her that? I didn't want to flaunt my money. Apparently my silence said enough.

She slid the ring on her third finger without another word. It sparkled fiercely in the light from the candelabra.

"Do you mind if I ask you some questions? Today, in the car with Jacob, I realized he knows more about you than I do. It was awkward."

I felt a twinge of irritation at the mention of the gardener's name, and my response came out brusquer than I intended. "Go ahead. Though it would be good if you could read the document I put together at your earliest convenience."

Bella was undeterred by my tone. "What is it that you do?"

"I handle the day-to-day operations of the second-largest private foundation in the United States."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty-nine." I suddenly wondered if that sounded old to her. I was closing in on thirty, and she was busy flirting with my gardener.

"How many siblings do you have?"

"Two; Emmett is older and Alice is younger."

"How tall are you?"

"6'2". All of this is in the document I saved for you on the laptop." Again, my tone was brusque, but if we were going to maintain this deception, it was going to take more than a few little questions at dinner.

"Oh. I'll read that tonight, I guess." Bella glanced back down at her plate again. She fiddled with her fork for a few seconds and then finally left it alone.

"Tomorrow I will be at work all day. Several of the house staff will be in and out. The maid will come after lunch. The gardener, whom you've already met, will be here in the morning. The pool boy will be here in the morning as well. You have the run of the house, and your computer is connected the house wireless network so you can access the Internet."

"Okay." She looked a little shell-shocked. Too much information at once?

I continued on, ignoring her discomfort. "You will need new clothes and probably a new look to be on the safe side. I've taken the liberty of asking my younger sister, Alice, to help you with that on Saturday."

"Um, won't it seem odd to her that I don't have any clothes and I need a new look?"

I hesitated. "I told her that you were being stalked by an ex-boyfriend, that you had to leave suddenly, and that you were worried he would find you if by chance the press caught you in a photo with me."

She blinked. "The press?"

"As you can imagine, my family is rather prominent in the community."

"People are going to photograph me with you?" She looked horrified. Funny- the part I thought would horrify her was that I manufactured a mentally unstable ex-boyfriend for her.

Most women would love to be photographed with me, but most women weren't living in fear of their lives. I took care to keep my voice neutral. "I will take care to keep you out of any pictures as best I can, of course."

She nodded and looked down at her food. That was the sum of our dinner conversation. She had eaten little, mostly picking at her food. She helped me clear the dishes at the table and load them into the dishwasher.

She said she was tired and she went up to her bedroom directly after dinner. I, however, was up late into the night reviewing grant proposals, trying not to wonder about the young woman sleeping upstairs.


	3. March 22, 2008

**Author's Note: **As before, special thanks to movieandbookgirl and Debussy_This for their careful and thoughtful beta assistance with this chapter.

**Chapter 3**

**Saturday, March 22, 2008**

**Bella**

"It's okay, Edward, you can leave," Alice said. "I'm not going to scare her off."

Edward gave me a hesitant look. I tried to radiate confidence back at him, but I'm sure I landed somewhere short of the mark. It was Saturday. He didn't want to leave me with his sister, and I didn't want to be left with her. We were in agreement. Unfortunately, Alice, his sister, saw things differently. I was quickly learning that Edward's family was not a democracy. His sister's and his mother's votes counted for more than anyone else's.

"Shoo, I said! Bella and I need girl time if I am going to work my magic." Petite but pregnant Alice proceeded to physically remove Edward from the room. It would have been funny, if only I hadn't been counting on Edward to keep the conversation with Alice from becoming too personal. I'd read all about his life, like I'd promised I would, but I in no way felt confident about the information I had assimilated.

"There," Alice said, after Edward was gone and the door was safely shut. She rubbed her hands together in anticipation and gave a convulsive little shiver of pleasure. "Now we get started."

"Okay." . I perched on the edge of Alice's sofa, my hands clasped tightly in my lap to keep from fidgeting. "What's the plan?"

"Before we do anything drastic, I just want to verify that we're on the same page. Edward told me that your ex-boyfriend is quite the stalker and you're afraid of being recognized if one of the paparazzi catches you out and about with him."

"Right," I said.

"Edward said you would feel safer if you looked dramatically different. Is that how you really feel?" Alice gave me an intent look. "I can make you look dramatically different, but I don't want you to look in the mirror and cry when you don't recognize yourself. You know?"

"I would like to look as different as possible without making any radical changes."

Alice rolled her eyes. "You and Edward are made for each other. You're both _difficult_."

"I'm not trying to be difficult," I said a little too defensively. "I don't want to wake up tomorrow morning and find I'm a blonde, is all."

"The good news is that you're sort of nondescript anyway."

I tried to keep my face neutral. Being called nondescript sounded like another way of saying that I was completely average looking. And while I didn't care how I looked in the general sense, it was a little galling to be nondescript while passers-by would think I was engaged to a man who looked like he walked off the cover of _GQ_.

Alice seemed to notice my unease, because she clarified, "By nondescript, I meant that a lot of people have brown hair and brown eyes. It won't really matter if we don't dye your hair, and there is no need for colored contacts."

Her clarification didn't make me feel any better about my looks, but at least she meant well. I forced a smile on my face for her, even though she was regarding me so closely that I felt as though she were shining a spotlight on my every flaw.

"Here's the plan: First, we shop for make-up while your complexion is fresh, then we have your hair done. Second, we shop for clothes. Third, we pamper at the spa to recover and prepare to see our men again."

Her ambitious plan should have struck terror in my heart. Instead, my head kept focusing on her last sentence. _Our men._ She thought of Edward as my man, and he totally and completely wasn't. It hadn't seemed daunting that I would have to pretend to the whole world that I loved Edward. I was in his debt so far I could never repay him, so pretending that I loved him was such a small thing to ask. Besides, it didn't hurt that he was heart-stoppingly handsome. Now the hard part of the deception was clubbing me over the head. I didn't have to just pretend to love him. I had to pretend _he_ loved _me_. The enormity of the whole situation overwhelmed me. He barely even wanted to talk to me.

"Bella, are you okay?" Alice was looking at me anxiously. "This is what you want, right?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

Minutes later we were cruising down the highway in Alice's yellow Porsche 911. The scenery was flying by at an alarming rate. I kept my eyes glued straight ahead, careful not to let myself look anywhere near the speedometer. I was trying hard not to be judgmental about the fact that Alice was six months pregnant and driving like a speed demon. Not everyone grew up with a police chief for a father.

Shopping for make-up went better than I thought it would. I'd envisioned myself on display at some make-up counter in a mall kiosk. Instead, Alice took me to some ritzy salon where people called her by name. She and I and an image consultant named Eileen were cosseted away in a private little room filled with mirrors. We spent an hour creating my new "look." By the time we left, I had committed to kiss away ten minutes of my life everyday to recreating my "look" each morning. As long as I thought of it as only ten minutes, and resisted the urge to multiply that ten minutes to see how much time I would waste on make-up in a month or even a year, it didn't sound too bad.

The hair cut I was less keen on. I liked my hair the way it was: long. I knew it was the one thing that would absolutely have to go for the sake of my anonymity, but that didn't make it any easier. I'd had long hair since I was six. The stylist was merciless and cut it into a short, asymmetrical bob. When he was finished, the sides came somewhere above my chin, and the back of the cut was even shorter. Alice had been right. Between the hair and the make-up, I looked like a completely different person.

Clothes shopping consisted of visiting several carefully selected boutiques. Alice and I went into a luxe dressing room the size of my bedroom in my old apartment while we waited on a sales person to bring us a pile of clothes. I tried them on and Alice critiqued. Most of the clothes lacked price tags. Some of them were only available in one size for trying on, and if we wanted it, we would order it from the designer. From the fancy cuts and the nice drape of the fabrics, I knew that today's shopping bill would easily exceed the entire amount of money I made last year.

All the money being spent on me made me feel ill, so I tried to pretend these clothes were a gift to me for agreeing to testify. And in a way, they kind of were. If I hadn't agreed to testify, I wouldn't be living with Edward. And if I weren't living with Edward he wouldn't be paying for this shopping trip. Edward had intimated that Uncle Sam was footing the bill for this makeover, but I knew that my stipend from the government was only about $60,000, for the whole year. If Uncle Sam was paying for this shopping trip, then Edward was covering anything that happened the whole rest of the year. The idea of him spending money on me made me uncomfortable, but I tried to keep it in perspective. After all, the alternative to having Edward spend money on me was me spending months in a mental institution. _Hmmm, mental institution or life in a mansion?_ Most people wouldn't hesitate, given that choice.

After we selected clothing, we hit the mall. I was a little bit confused, since I thought we were going to the spa.

"I have plenty of clothes, Alice," I said, as she pulled into a parking spot that was far enough from the mall that no other cars were parked anywhere in the vicinity. She was apparently protective of her car.

"We're not here for clothes, silly. We're here for sunglasses."

"Sunglasses?"

"Your new favorite accessory for whenever you're seen out and about." When I still looked confused, she added, "In case you get photographed."

"Oh." I was definitely in some bizarre alternate world—I, plain-Jane Bella, was going to be wearing sunglasses when I went outside to dodge the paparazzi like I was some kind of famous actress. Maybe I _was_ in a mental institution, and all the meds they were giving me were making me have crazy dreams. I pinched myself, just in case. _Ouch._ Nope, not dreaming.

Alice was oblivious to my confusion. Edward had described her to me as a tornado of energy, and I was beginning to realize he hadn't exaggerated at all. Even pregnant, she was a force of nature as she dragged me through the parking lot, into the mall, and straight to the sunglasses store.

We bought twelve pairs of sunglasses. Alice wanted to buy twenty, but I drew the line at an even dozen. I tried to draw the line at two, but Alice assured me that if I only had two pairs I would lose them. I had never lost a pair of sunglasses in my life, but it was easier not to argue.

We drove to the spa in silence. Alice's was a happy quiet, practically humming in excitement over all of our purchases. Mine was more the overwhelmed variety of quiet. In the sunglasses store, I kept having to look at myself in the mirror. I didn't look like me, and it was unsettling in the extreme. In the last few months, I had given up my home, my extended family, my friends, most of my belongings, and even my home town. My appearance was all I'd had left, and now that was gone, too.

The people at the spa greeted Alice as though she were their best friend. Clearly, she came here often. As we sat down in the chairs for our pedicures, I realized there was no way I was going to escape talking to her.

"How did you and Edward meet?"

I considered this briefly. I had spent yesterday reading the entire history that Edward had painstakingly composed on our behalf, and I hated it. He had us meeting at some charity gala. He had made up the history before he even met me, so it wasn't as though there was any of _me_ in that history. And right then, I was desperate to retain as much _me_ as possible. Edward had also thoughtfully provided me with a list of his interests, public and private, so if people asked me questions I wouldn't say anything stupid. I wracked my brain, trying to recall his interests and match something he was interested in with a way we could meet.

"We met at the symphony." _Keep it short, Bella_.

"Ooh, really? He has season tickets." Alice paused. "But I guess you already know that."

I didn't know that, but that made my story all the more plausible. "Yes, I lucked into a ticket at the last minute, and I ended up next to Edward."

"He wasn't in our box?"

Me and my big mouth. Of course Edward had a box. Anxious to change the subject, I asked, "Have you decided on a name yet?"

Alice gave me the special glowy smile that that all pregnant women seemed to have when they thought of their baby. "Joshua Carlisle, for my dad."

"I'm sure he'll be honored."

Undeterred from her desire to question me, Alice asked, "How long have you and Edward been together?"

"About three months."

Alice colored bright red. "Edward really should have introduced us earlier."

"He's a private person."

"He could have told me he was seeing you!" Alice grabbed my hand and looked imploringly at me. "I thought he was seeing a bitch named Jessica, so I kept trying to set him up. Please don't be mad. I honestly didn't know he was seeing you or I wouldn't have thrown so many girls at him."

"I'm not mad."

"Oh, good." Alice looked so relieved, guilt crept over me. Lying to strangers wasn't a big deal, but Alice and I weren't strangers anymore. And then she made me feel even guiltier by adding, "I have a feeling we're going to be great friends."

"So your husband's name is Jasper?" I tried again to deflect the conversation from me.

"Uh huh. You'll meet him tonight." Alice was quiet a moment. "I know we're not supposed to talk about it, but I can totally see Edward rescuing you from that bad relationship you were in."

"Oh?"

"Edward is the brother I think of as a knight in shining armor. I'm glad he finally found his damsel."

Before I could think what I was saying, I blurted, "I would think your brother Emmett would be the knight in shining armor."

Alice's eyes narrowed to slits, and she gave me a sharp look. "Why?"

"Well," I pondered what I could say without saying too much. "He saves people all the time; people who are really hard to save." _Like me_, I added silently.

"Emmett told you about his job with WitSec?" Alice gave me a penetrating look, and I suddenly wondered if it was a secret he was a deputy. "Well, I guess I can see your point, but Emmett is more of a hero. He helps lots of people, and he's larger than life. I still think Edward is the knight, though. He's dark and serious, but true-hearted. He helps people too, he's just more selective about who he helps."

"I can see that," I agreed. Agreeing seemed like the safest bet. I would consider what she said later.

"I didn't know Edward had introduced you to Emmett."

"Well," I started, not sure where to go from there. Every time I said something, I sank myself deeper into a quicksand pool of trouble.

"Never mind. You didn't know Edward was being rude by introducing you to Emmett first. I'll take it up with Edward later."

"If Emmett is the hero, and Edward is the knight, who is Jasper?" We needed to stop talking about Emmett and Edward before I opened my mouth again.

"Jasper is the general. He's always thinking, always planning, always looking toward the greatest good."

"And if you're going to make me be a damsel, who are you?"

"Me?" Alice giggled. "I'm the court gossip, I guess. I can't help that I'm nosy. And Rosalie, well Rosalie is the queen."

"And Emmett and Rosalie have two daughters?"

"Yes. They are princesses of the realm. They are spoiled rotten, but everyone adores them anyway." Alice smiled warmly at me. "I'm so excited that you're going to meet everyone tonight."

"Everyone? I thought I was just meeting Jasper and Rosalie. I mean, I already know Edward and Emmett…"

"It must have slipped my mind to tell Edward. This pregnancy has made me so forgetful, I swear."

"What, exactly, slipped your mind?"

"It's not a big deal at all. I just happened to mention to my mother that we were all going to Emmett's for dinner and she insisted that she and Dad be allowed to join us. So you'll get to meet them tonight as well."

I blanched.

"Don't be nervous, Bella. They'll love you, I know it. Edward could bring home someone with webbed feet, and Mom wouldn't care as long as he was happy."

Our pedicures were followed by manicures and facials. Then, to my horror, Alice went to go get waxed. Six months pregnant, and still waxing? The big surprise was that Alice actually thought I would want to get waxed too.

"Bella, you're all about saving time. You about had a fit when they told you the make-up would take ten minutes a day. If you get waxed, you don't have to shave. It's so much more efficient…"

I didn't mention that I didn't shave that often anyway. Why would I? I didn't have anyone to impress. _But Alice thinks I have Edward to impress_.

WWEFD was going to have to be my new motto: What Would Edward's Fiancée Do?

Ugh. Edward's fiancée would probably go get waxed.

So I did. And it _hurt_. My skin was all red and irritated, but they promised me it would go back to normal soon.

We drove to Emmett's house, where Edward had planned to meet us. We arrived just after Edward pulled into the driveway. He got out of his Volvo and dashed over to Alice's car to help me out of the car.

"Hello, pregnant woman over here!" Alice shouted from the other side of the car, obviously miffed that he wasn't helping her out of the car.

"Alice, you've spent the entire pregnancy telling me not to help you just because you're pregnant. Are you changing your mind?" As Edward said it, he walked around the Porsche and helped Alice out of the car.

"You should help me out of the car because I'm your sister, not because I'm pregnant," she huffed.

"Fine."

"Well? What do you think of the new Bella?" Alice asked Edward as she gave me a significant look.

Edward looked me up and down, and I felt the color rising in my cheeks. The makeover was to make me safer; it had nothing to do with my looks. Still, as he looked at me, I felt like I was a little girl playing dress-up in a world where she didn't belong.

"Alice," he said finally, "You've outdone yourself. Bella looks as beautiful now as she did when I left her in your care this morning. Thank you."

Though I didn't think it was possible, I blushed harder. He'd seemed cold and distant last night, but now he was telling me exactly what I needed to hear. I felt a surge of gratitude toward him. Maybe he wasn't as distant as I'd thought.


	4. March 22, 2008, part 2

**Author's Note: **

Many thanks, as usual, to movieandbookgirl and Debussy_This for going over this chapter.

**Chapter 4**

**Saturday, March 22, 2008**

**Emmett**

I spent the afternoon mini-golfing with my older daughter Libby. She was in the backseat, merrily chattering at me. We were currently on the way back to the house to meet the family for dinner. I made all the right noises to keep her talking, but my mind was on Rosalie.

I kept up a good face for Libby and Emma, but Rosalie had been livid with me ever since the California debacle. I wasn't sure why this witness was different from the others, but my work had never made her so angry. Maybe it was the long hours I'd pulled over the last few months. Maybe it was the danger. Maybe it was that this witness was young and female. Or maybe she was on her period. Whatever it was, I needed this placement with Edward to work out so that I could find some way to appease her.

When Rose found out I was in California on a night she cooked dinner and sent the kids to stay overnight with the grandparents, her fury knew no bounds. Then she found out I went without back-up. The only thing that saved me from her going medieval on my ass was the fact that we were on the phone when she got the news.

She asked if I was trying to make her a widow.

That stung.

Of course my three girls were the most important things to me in the whole world, but my job was important too. People's lives were at stake. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't protect Marie Swan. I meant Bella. Bella, Bella, Bella. I had to think of her now as Bella. I couldn't even imagine the mess if I slipped up and Rosalie somehow realized that the witness she thought was finally out of my hair was going to be eating dinner at our house. I hated lying to my wife, but it was a necessity in this case.

The only thing that was currently keeping her in check was my promise that the witness had been settled for the last time until the trial next year. Well, that and the promise of our vacation. I can't even tell you the things I promised to do for her, to her, when we finally managed to get away. Unfortunately, although I'd promised her we'd be on a plane on April 3, there was no way we were leaving until mid-April.

It was too soon to leave Bella with Edward. For one thing, Edward had a two-week trip to Haiti planned for March 30th through April 13th, and I didn't feel right leaving her unprotected yet. For another, although he meant well, Edward wasn't exactly Mr. Congeniality. I was half-expecting Bella might call me in tears and demand to be moved back into the jail so she could get away from him. Finally, before I left, I wanted some confidence that the Volturi believed Marie Swan was dead. Now that Bella was living in my brother's house, both of them were at risk if the Volturi found out she was alive. If something happened to Edward, Rosalie really would end up a widow. Nobody crosses my mother and lives.

I brought my focus back to Libby in the backseat. I smiled at her through the rear-view mirror. She was still talking about her hole-in-one. I had a feeling I was going to hear that story several times tonight as it was related to each relative in turn.

As we pulled into the driveway, I noticed Edward's Volvo and Alice's Porsche were already present. I took a few deep breaths, trying to get to my Zen state. This was the first big test of whether Edward and Bella would be believable as a couple. I needed to be on high alert tonight, because if they couldn't sell this to the family, it was going to be one long-ass year.

Mom and Dad pulled in right behind me. Who invited them? Edward and I had discussed getting Alice and Jasper on board first, and then introducing Bella to Mom and Dad. Already, the plan was deteriorating. I dug in the glove box for my bottle of Extra-Strength Tylenol. I gulped down two.

"Daddy, why are you taking pills? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Princess. Just a headache. Mimi and Granddad are pulling in behind us."

Mom and Dad were already out of the car and coming toward us. Libby was waving frantically to them through the window.

I unlocked the doors and Mom opened Libby's door to let her out of the car. I let Libby go with her grandparents up to the door. I saw Jasper's car pull into the drive, and I waited for him before walking in.

"Can you believe Edward's engaged?" Jasper muttered to me as we walked in.

I gave a non-committal grunt. I wasn't sure when I was supposed to have found out about the engagement, so I was going to say as little as possible.

We walked into the house. I was glad I wasn't holding onto anything, because if I had been I would have dropped it as soon as I saw Bella.

I almost didn't recognize her. I'd only ever seen her in blue jeans and tennis shoes. I guess you could say she cleaned up nice, but using nice as an adjective to describe how she looked was almost insulting. She was fucking sexy. I couldn't believe this was the girl I'd called wholesome just last week. I was never going to confuse Marie and Bella again.

Seeing Bella look so irresistible opened up whole new avenues for headaches. Sure, her being a vixen would make it easier for everyone to believe she snagged Edward's eye. But what if she actually did? I'd sort of counted on her continuing to look girl-next-door enough that Edward wouldn't dare lay a hand on her. Bella was so young, so naïve, and she was isolated from everyone she knew. I really, really hoped I could trust Edward to be a complete gentleman. His attention span with the ladies was short, and if he and Bella had a fling, who would pick up the pieces?

Rosalie was standing behind Bella, glaring daggers at me. Apparently, I'd looked at Bella a little longer than was polite. If I hadn't known it before, right then I knew Rosalie could never, never know that Bella was the witness. For someone so beautiful, Rosalie was irrationally insecure sometimes.

On the bright side, Rose's insecurity meant that she came right up to me and planted a nice wet kiss on my mouth. I kissed her back passionately, wordlessly telling her she was the only one I wanted. She kissed me back, and I wasn't sure if that was show or if it was because she wasn't quite as mad at me as she'd let on. I hoped it was the latter, because the surest way I could think of to lose my headache was make-up sex. If we could do the sexing tonight, everything would seem a little more possible tomorrow. When she started to pull away, I gave her my best half-smile, making sure my dimples were showing up in full force.

Rose held back a smile, but I could see her mouth twitching.

Yes, ladies and gentlemen, there would be sex tonight!

When Rose walked back toward the kitchen, I noticed Edward was now standing next to Bella. His arm looked a little too cozy and possessive around her waist. Maybe he was acting and I didn't have to worry about him making a play for Bella.

_Yeah, right_. This was my little brother we were talking about. Bella had 'forbidden fruit' written all over her.

I needed a back-up plan in case Edward proved incapable of maintaining a platonic relationship with Bella, a plan that did not involve prison or mental facilities. I wasn't any closer to unraveling the rat at work, but if I could, then maybe I could settle Bella somewhere else until the trial. Somewhere where I wouldn't have to lie to Rose and I wouldn't have to worry about Edward's short attention span for the fairer sex. That would be a win for me, a win for Rose, and a definite win for Bella. Edward might get hissy about it, but he'd get over it.

**Bella**

Edward, Alice, and I walked up the front steps together and rang the doorbell.

The door opened, and I couldn't help but stare. The woman who answered the door was supermodel gorgeous. She was tall and slender, and she was wearing shorts that made it appear that her legs went on forever. Her glossy, honey blonde hair hung in loose waves that framed her face. Her eyes were clear blue set in a sculpted face, complete with high cheekbones and a square jaw.

Edward's voice interrupted my reverie. "Rosalie, please meet Bella, my fiancée." Edward's hand was on the small of my back, and I could feel the heat from his hand through my shirt.

This was Emmett's wife? If my crush on him before was laughable, now it was freakin' _hilarious_. But I wasn't laughing.

Rosalie was looking me over.

Even after the make-over session with Alice, Rosalie's assessing glance made me feel like I was a wad of bubblegum on the bottom of her shoe. All that time I'd thought about Emmett and wondered about his lucky wife, somehow I'd never dreamed she could be so intimidatingly perfect.

"Bella, I wish I could say Edward's told us all about you," Rosalie said with a saccharine smile, "but he's been quite tight-lipped. Please, come in."

Alice gave Rosalie a significant look. "You know, he was only tight-lipped with _us_. He introduced her to Emmett a while ago."

Oops. Maybe I was supposed to pretend I didn't know Emmett. I noticed that Alice and Rosalie were both shooting Edward accusatory looks. Yes, I definitely should have pretended not to know Emmett. Edward's hand moved from the small of my back to circle my waist. His gripped me to him tightly, as if he could communicate his thoughts to me through his body language.

"It wasn't personal," Edward said pointedly. "Emmett's in the business of protecting people. I thought he could advise me on a particular matter related to Bella."

"Oh!" Alice said, and her anger evaporated. She gave me a knowing look. "He really is a knight in shining armor, isn't he?"

It took me a second to process that exchanged, but as soon as I did, I leaned my head against Edward's chest and smiled at Alice. "He is." Edward was implying he told Emmett about me so that he could better protect me from my ex-boyfriend that didn't really exist. A girl could really get lost in this maze of lies if she didn't stay on her toes. And if I didn't take my head off Edward's chest soon, my legs were going to turn to jelly because he smelled heavenly.

Alice threw her arm around Rosalie, and we all walked into the house. As soon as we sat down in the living room, I heard little feet pounding on the wood floor.

A little girl, no more than three, burst into the room. Her blonde hair was wild and her eyes were bright. She looked at all of us, and then ran straight for Edward.

This surprised me, since nothing I had seen of Edward so far implied that he was remotely interested in children. But then I heard him laugh. I watched, astonished, as he scooped that little girl up into his arms and swung her around in circles. She squealed in delight. I looked over at Alice to see if this behavior was unusual for Edward, but she wasn't even paying attention. She was talking to Rosalie. Apparently this was normal Edward behavior, not notable in the slightest.

When Edward set the little girl down, he knelt down on the floor until he was at her level. "Emma, I have someone special for you to meet. This is Miss Bella."

"Hi Emma," I said, kneeling down. "What a lovely dress you're wearing."

Emma beamed a shy smile at me, and then ran and hid behind Edward.

The doorbell rang, and Alice jumped up to answer it.

Rosalie stood up as well. "Edward, Bella, would you like anything to drink?"

"What are the odds you have any decent beer?" Edward stood, pulling Emma onto his back and then setting her on his shoulders. Emma grabbed his hair and giggled.

A smile played on Rosalie's face as she watched her daughter. "If by decent you mean foreign, then zero. You know Emmett is patriotic about his beer."

"Just water, for me, then."

"Bella?" Rosalie glanced at me, the smile on her face evaporating. It was as though she knew I had lusted after her husband, and now she was punishing me. But she couldn't know. _Why doesn't she like me?_

"Water would be lovely."

Rosalie brought Edward and me glasses of water, and then chaos ensued. Alice came back into the living room with a whole mess of people in tow. Edward set Emma down, and she charged at the crowd of new people. Emmett was there, as well as a little girl who had to be his older daughter. Alice's arm was linked with a tall blond man's, so presumably he was Jasper. There were two other people, an attractive older couple, and I realized they were Edward's parents.

Edward wrapped an arm snugly around my waist, and I stiffened for a moment before I remembered he was putting on a show for his parents. I was sure the people in the room, excluding Emmett, believed we had done a whole lot more touching than this. So I let myself lean into Edward, just a little. I would stop when people weren't looking.

There were introductions, and then Rosalie called everyone to the dining room. I had never been at a dining room table big enough to sit ten people before, but this one was. I was seated next to Edward, and I stayed quiet, observing all the goings-on.

Everyone was making a huge deal over dinner, repeatedly complimenting Rosalie because she had cooked the meal _by herself_. Back before the whole Volturi mess, I cooked almost every night at my house. It was not a big deal. But then, I wasn't rich.

Dinner was almost half-way over before things deteriorated. Edward's mother, Esme, asked to see my engagement ring. She was seated across from me, so I nervously held my hand out so she could admire it.

"Very nice, Edward," Esme said, and then looked at me. "Do tell me how the two of you met."

I thought she was talking to me, so I answered. Unfortunately, Edward thought she was talking to him, so he answered too. I said the symphony. He said a charity gala.

Silence followed. I dared not look at Edward's eyes. I should have warned him that I deviated from the script when I was with Alice, but I had been so dazzled by him when he said I was beautiful back in the driveway that I forgot. Not that I'd had any time with him alone, away from Alice, where I could have told him something like that.

Esme's eyebrows were so high they were lost under her delicate bangs. "Which is it?"

Rosalie snickered. "What's the matter, Edward, did you pick her up at a topless bar or something?"

"What's a topless bar?" Libby, Emmett's older daughter, asked.

Edward completely ignored Rosalie and Libby and spoke directly to his mother. Somehow he managed to mesh our stories together in a way that sounded coherent, and his mother seemed to buy it. I relaxed some.

Other questions about our engagement and our relationship followed, and I did my best to let Edward do the talking unless I was directly asked a question.

Everyone wanted to talk about the wedding that they didn't know was never going to happen, and Edward deflected those questions like a pro. Maybe he was right. Maybe people really would believe we were engaged. Everything he said sounded so plausible and reasonable. I was beginning to think he could sell sand to Egypt.

Suddenly Esme gave us both a blindingly bright smile, and said, "Edward, Bella, I was able to retain the family photographer for tomorrow afternoon to take some engagement pictures of the two of you. I know it's short notice, but if you sit for the pictures tomorrow, we should be able to announce your engagement in the Sunday paper."

Edward frowned. "No."

I was instantly relieved. Edward's 'no' was so emphatic I was positive we weren't going to have to go through with it. I did not enjoy being photographed under normal circumstances, and the idea of being photographed for the newspaper when people wanted me dead was particularly abhorrent.

"Edward, be reasonable. You are quite well-known in the community, and people will want to congratulate you on your engagement." Esme looked from Edward to me. "And I'm sure Bella wants everyone to know you're taken."

"We're not having pictures done. We're not making an announcement."

"Why not?"

"Because we're not doing it."

"Bella?" Esme appealed to me.

"Um," I said, not wanting to upset my not-quite-future mother-in-law.

Alice noticed my discomfort and piped up. "They don't need an announcement, Mom."

"That's not what I recall you saying when you were engaged, Alice."

"Mom," Alice said, and her voice held a warning. "Edward and Bella don't want to publicize their engagement and they have their reasons."

"Maybe Bella's a criminal," Rosalie said.

Edward, Alice, and Emmett all shot Rosalie death looks.

"What?" Rosalie said innocently. "Why else wouldn't she want to be photographed?"

"Bella, you'll have to excuse Rosalie. Sometimes she's a bit insensitive." Alice glared at Rosalie. "For your information, Rose, not that it is any of your business, Edward is protecting Bella from her stalker ex-boyfriend."

Esme immediately seized my hand and squeezed it. "My goodness, I'm sorry, dear. I had no idea. Of course we won't need a photograph or even an announcement. No wonder Edward has kept your engagement so quiet."

Emmett pushed his chair back from the table, stood, and pulled Rosalie to her feet. "Excuse us for a moment."

Everyone stared for a few seconds, but then conversation resumed. After a couple of minutes, Emmett and Rosalie returned. Rosalie looked slightly chagrined and gave me an apologetic look. I had the distinct feeling that whatever Emmett said to her was about me. _Great, I'm sure she'll like me even more now-not really_.

The rest of dinner was pretty much a haze of embarrassment. Everyone tried not to talk about me being stalked, but no one could talk about anything else. I hated being the center of attention, especially since I wasn't actually being stalked by an ex-boyfriend. When dinner was finally over and it was time to leave, I was relieved, even though it meant I would need to explain to Edward how I almost blew our cover.

The car ride back to Edward's house was uncomfortably silent, but it was still better than being at dinner. I could tell he was angry with me. He'd made such a big deal about that stupid history he'd created for us and now it seemed as though I hadn't read it.

When we arrived back at the house, he opened the car door for me and offered me his arm. I took it warily, but he didn't say anything until we were in the house.

I watched him as he turned off the alarm and then rearmed it for the night. When he finished he asked without looking at me, "May I interest you in a glass of wine?"

"I don't drink wine, remember?" I was a little annoyed with him. He seriously expected me to remember every little thing from the history he created for us, but he couldn't remember I didn't like wine?

"Do you not drink wine because you don't drink, or because you just don't like it?"

"I don't like it."

"You've never had good wine, then. Have a seat in the living room. I'll bring you a glass."

I huffed in irritation as I walked into the living room. Obviously, he was trying to get back at me for deviating from his script. I perched on the edge of the sofa. The dark living room was lit only by the light that was streaming in from the kitchen. I didn't bother to turn on a lamp, because I wasn't going to be in here long. I was going to take a sip of his stupid wine to make him happy, tell him I didn't like it, and then go to my bedroom. I glanced in the kitchen, but I didn't see him anywhere. Where did he go? A couple of minutes later, I heard him in the kitchen and then he materialized in front of me with two skinny glasses and a bottle.

"Those are funny wine glasses." I eyed them suspiciously as he set them on the coffee table and filled them

Edward sat down beside me and handed me a glass. "That's because they're champagne flutes."

"We're drinking champagne?" My voice came out in a squeak as I realized how very close to me Edward was sitting. I had been prepared for angry Edward, not up-close-and-personal Edward.

"Sort of. This is a semi-sparkling wine that I picked up from a small winery in France the last time I was there. It is light and sweet with a low alcohol content. I think you'll like it."

I was about to take my one sip, but then I hesitated. "It seems odd to drink from glasses like these without toasting."

Edward laughed, a soft, melodic noise that filled the room. "What would you like to toast to, Bella?"

"Well, we missed St. Patrick's Day, but maybe we could toast to good luck? I know I could certainly use some."

"All right, then. To good luck," Edward said, and he tapped his glass against mine.

I tilted my champagne flute back and took a sip. Edward did the same, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Well?"

"It's not bad."

"Not bad, as in you're not choking on it? Or not bad, as in you wouldn't mind having another glass when you finish this one?"

My breath caught. The light from the kitchen hit the profile of his face, and the rest of him was shadowed in darkness. He was devastatingly handsome. I reflexively took another sip of my wine.

"Bella?"

Right. He was waiting for me to say something. What had he asked? "Oh, um, I guess another glass would be okay."

"Did you read the document I wrote for us?"

I nodded, sipping my wine again. It wasn't bad at all; I'd never tasted anything quite like it.

"Why did you change how we met?"

"It didn't have any of me in it, and right now I'm scrambling to hold on to all the bits of my identity that I can."

Edward glanced at me, and his eyes were dark pools in the dim light. "You're honest."

"I try to be. I am a terrible liar." I polished off my glass in another long sip. This stuff tasted better and better with each swallow.

Edward chuckled. "I noticed. And yet you're stuck living a lie."

"Life sucks, doesn't it?"

"No it doesn't. More wine?"

"Please." I watched as he filled my glass. Tiny bubbles were dancing in the amber liquid as it caught the light.

"I'll be in town this coming week, but then I'm going to Haiti for two weeks. While I'm gone, why don't you focus on re-writing our 'history' so that it's something you can say without feeling compelled to extemporize?"

"Okay," I murmured, still transfixed by the contours of his face. He said the alcohol content was low, but I was starting to feel deliciously warm and mellow. Maybe I should have eaten more at dinner.

"And when I come back, I'll read over your changes and we can discuss them."

I nodded. "That sounds good." I think I would have agreed to anything he said right then. The timbre of his voice was mesmerizing, and I wanted nothing more than to listen to him speak. "Why are you going to Haiti?"

"I run my family's charitable foundation. I like to go to the places where we give significant capital so that I can ascertain that the money is going to the correct people." Edward finished his glass of wine and poured himself another.

"Two weeks seems like a long time," I said, hoping to coax him to say more so I could keep listening to him.

"It is. It's easy to deceive someone for a few days. Two weeks is much harder, that's why I'm going to be there that long."

Laughter bubbled unbidden from my lips, and I tried to hide it by taking a quick drink of wine.

Edward was not fooled. "What's so funny?"

"Not funny, more like crazy. You think it's hard to deceive someone for two weeks, but we're going to keep up our deception for a year."

Edward grinned sardonically. "We'll have to be clever about it then, won't we?"

"Right, clever. I'll keep that in mind."

"Tell me about yourself, Bella." He leaned back into the sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table as he regarded me.

"Which version?"

"The real one."

"There's not much to tell. My parents divorced when I was small. I grew up with my mom and then moved in with my dad for high school. I went to college and then the Volturi hired me out of college. It seemed like a really good job at the time."

"That's not the real one, that's the watered-down version. Tell me something real."

"I'm afraid to go out in public with you because I think nobody will believe you would ever look twice at me," I blurted. I put my hand over my mouth in embarrassment.

Edward hesitated, and for a moment I was afraid he was going to agree with me. Instead, he leaned in and touched my cheek. The contact was electric and it jolted my nerve endings in the most delightful way. "Have you looked in a mirror lately? You're beautiful, Isabella."

I watched his lips move as he said the words, and never in my life had I wanted to kiss someone as badly as I wanted to kiss Edward at that moment. Our heads were so close, I could feel his breath on my face. So I did the only thing I could think to do in that situation.

I ran away.

Only when I was safe in my room did I breathe again. Surely I didn't have a crush on Edward Cullen.

It had to be the wine.


	5. March 24 to March 27, 2008

**Author's Note:**

Many thanks to movieandbookgirl and Debussy_This for reviewing this chapter.

**Chapter 5**

**Monday, March 24, 2008**

**Edward**

The elevator seemed especially fast this morning. Perhaps it was because my mind was drifting; a common occurrence over the past several days.

I stepped out of the elevator and onto the 23rd floor, home of the Cullen Foundation.

"Good morning, Edward."

I nodded to the receptionist as I strode past her, toward the long, plushly carpeted hallway that led to my office.

The receptionist spoke again, "Good morning, Mr. Cullen."

I turned around instinctively, though she had greeted me moments before. A thought flickered that perhaps my father was making a surprise visit, but it was not my father.

There, standing several feet behind me in a suit, complete with a freshly starched white shirt and a red silk tie, was my brother Emmett. Based on the few times he had come here, it was a surprise the receptionist had recognized him. Our eyes connected across the front room. Emmett ran a finger around his neck, prying his collar slightly away from his neck. He looked distinctly uncomfortable, as he always did when he wore business attire.

"Edward," he said, with a smile that was half-relieved, half-grimace. "Do you have a few minutes?"

"Of course." In truth, I did not have a few minutes. Meetings were booked back-to-back for my entire day. There was no use in pointing this out to Emmett, however. That was not how he rolled. If I didn't make time for him now, he would make time for himself in an even less convenient fashion.

I continued down the hallway to my office, aware that Emmett was following.

My office was essentially soundproof, but the proximity of my assistant's office made it possible that she might hear a heated conversation. Since Emmett's voice was booming by nature, I took the precaution of sending Gina, my assistant, down to the lobby to purchase Danishes and coffee for this impromptu breakfast meeting.

I entered my office and sat down behind my desk. Emmett sat across from me in a leather armchair, his eyes glued to the scenery through the window behind me.

"Nice view you've got up here."

"It won't take Gina long to bring up the coffee," I said pointedly.

Emmett ignored me. "It's a fucked up kind of world where they call you Edward and me Mr. Cullen."

"I'll have the receptionist make a note to call you Emmett, if it bothers you that much."

"Nah. I never come here anyway." Emmett glanced around my office suspiciously, his gaze lingering on a floor lamp in the corner. "Is this place clean?"

"Tell me you're not asking if _my office_ is bugged." When he didn't answer, I rolled my eyes. "You're overly paranoid. There is no reason for anyone to spy on me."

Emmett reached into his suit coat and withdrew a slim, skinny folder that he laid on the desk in front of me. "I brought these for Bella."

"Bella has everything she needs."

Emmett snorted. "You're not God, Edward, meeting her every need. Don't forget she's _my_ witness."

I opened the folder. Inside were a driver's license, a credit card, a passport, and a car key. Excepting the car key, all were in the name of Isabella Lawson.

"You didn't have these issued from your office, did you?"

"No, Wonderboy, I didn't. The IDs are illegal and I'd rather nobody found out I had both state and federal IDs forged."

I examined the IDs critically. "This is an old picture of Bella."

"It's what I had, and anyway, the dates on them are from a few years ago so they wouldn't need the chip that's in new passports. And just in case things really go to hell," Emmett said. He plunked four U.S. passports, two with my picture, two with Bella's.

I snorted. "This is ridiculous. People think she's dead. You're taking this too seriously."

"You're the damn Eagle Scout," he snapped. "I thought you would want to be prepared."

It was Emmett's tone that jerked me into awareness. It was entirely possible that Bella had enemies enough to cause us both to flee the country at some date in the not-too-distant future. The thought was more than a little unsettling. We weren't married or even engaged, but I had linked my fate with Bella's, for good or ill. I drove those thoughts from my head; worry was a useless emotion.

I switched my thoughts back to the things Emmett had given me for Bella. "Whose account is the credit card on?"

"Mine."

I slid the credit card across the desk, back toward Emmett. "Destroy it. I'll put her on one of mine."

Emmett bristled. "I don't want Bella to feel like she has to justify her purchases to you."

"I don't want Rosalie to find out you added my beautiful fiancée to one of your credit cards."

He hesitated, and then picked up the credit card and pocketed it.

I picked up the next item from Emmett's packet, the car key. "Tell me this isn't to one of your cars."

"I didn't think you'd want her driving one of yours, and she ought to be able to drive somewhere if she wants to. Otherwise I might as well have left her in prison."

"Do not compare my house with a prison."

"I wasn't calling your house a prison. Take the stick out of your butt."

"Even if there were room in my garage, which there is not, the idea of her tooling around town in one of your cars is ridiculous. What if the press found out?"

"Now who's paranoid?"

"She can drive my Mercedes if she needs to go anywhere." I tossed him back his key.

"I'll pay you back for whatever expenses she runs up on your card."

"Not necessary."

"Don't care. It's the principle."

"You can repay me by stocking your fridge with better beer." I grinned wickedly.

"My fridge is an American beer zone only."

"Could you at least add some variety?"

"I guess I can make an effort," Emmett conceded.

Gina knocked lightly on the door and entered with two cups of coffee and a tray of pastries. She set them on an end table against the wall, near the sofa. Emmett was on his feet immediately, and he wolfed down a small pastry before I could blink.

I preferred not to have sugar at breakfast. Emmett apparently had no such qualms.

"Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?"

"Yeah. Don't get too cozy with Bella. She's too good for you." With those parting words, Emmett grabbed another Danish and left.

I ran a few minutes behind all day, as I dashed from meeting to meeting. I should have been thinking about our work in Haiti and my upcoming trip. I should have been thinking about a whole host of work-related things, but my mind kept drifting back to Bella.

These last few days had turned out to be, well, _harder_ than I imagined. When I told Emmett I would take in his witness, there was no sexual component to it. She was young and innocent and in danger, and she needed help I could provide. Emmett's description of her, 'girl next door,' in no way did her justice. I immediately noticed her beauty when I first saw her; but, it was a subtle beauty. You had to look for it. It was all the more attractive because it didn't jump out at you immediately.

Her beauty was not so subtle anymore; Alice made sure of that. She wasn't more beautiful than before… but she wasn't less beautiful either. I had hoped we could be friends. Unfortunately, I feared _Bella_ and _platonic_ were not at all compatible. If I paid attention to her, she looked up at me from under those long lashes of hers and I had x-rated thoughts. If I ignored her, her eyes took on this hurt look that made me feel as though I were the hunter who shot Bambi's mother.

Saturday night, after a glass or two of wine, I almost had a lapse in judgment. I had been completely unprepared for the husky timbre of her voice and the way she leaned into me when I spoke. The scent of her hair was like wild strawberries and something I couldn't quite put my finger on, but whatever it was, it was addictive. And then she told me she was afraid to be seen in public with me. Her face was so open, so vulnerable; I couldn't stop myself from inching closer toward her. She didn't see herself clearly at all, and I had been ridiculously close to attempting to kiss away her irrational fears. She ran away as soon as she realized my intention, and it was for the best. I had no business lusting after a young woman I was supposed to be protecting, and no good would have come of that kiss. If she had kissed me back, I'm not sure where things would have led.

Yes, I needed to focus on what was important: keeping Bella safe. My discussion with Emmett this morning had been sobering; there was real danger if we did not keep up the charade of an engaged couple. To that end, I was planning to put us in the public eye several times this week. The idea was for us to experience things together that were critical details of our relationship. After all, how could she tell people how Julio's was our favorite restaurant if she had never been there? How could she accurately describe the crescendo of sound that was Seattle's symphony if we didn't go? If people asked her questions about my work, what would she say? She'd never been to a gala of any kind, so how could we have met there?

All day at work, I went through the motions, but my mind was on Bella. The minutes of each meeting crawled by. Finally, it was time to go home.

Today was the first day that I came home from work to Bella. I had been prepared to take her out to dinner, but the delicious aroma of baked chicken assailed me when I opened the door.

Bella stepped out of the kitchen and into the foyer, a dish towel wrapped horizontally across her thighs and tucked into the waist of her pants. Her hands were clasped together in front of her, and she seemed nervous. I wondered at the dish towel, and then realized I probably didn't own an apron. Why would I? I didn't cook.

"You cooked." Surprise defeated my normal eloquence.

"Do you like chicken?" Bella asked, her fingers twisting even as she held her hands together. "I would have made something more interesting, but I wasn't sure what you liked other than lasagna."

"I like chicken very much," I assured her as I set my briefcase down near the door.

"The chicken is resting. I still need to make the gravy and mash the potatoes, so maybe ten minutes?"

"Sounds great." I loosened my tie and shrugged out of my suitcoat.

"Do you want something to drink?" Bella asked solicitously.

"A beer?" This was surreal. Visions of a 1950s-America television show starring Bella as the little woman, home cooking dinner, and me as the man out earning a paycheck flitted through my brain.

Bella returned promptly with a beer. She'd even taken the cap off.

"Thank you." I took a quick, long swig. Bella returned to the kitchen, and I resisted the urge to follow her there. My goal of remaining platonic with her would be easier to accomplish from several yards away.

True to her word, Bella set dinner on the table approximately ten minutes later. I sat across from her, wondering if she would expect me to carve the chicken. I had no idea how to carve a chicken; cooking and food were not among my core competencies. To my immense relief, Bella carved the chicken herself. Apparently this wasn't the 1950s.

Martha Stewart would have been proud of Bella's table spread. There was chicken, gravy, mashed potatoes, rolls, asparagus, and a citrus fruit salad. Cooking was not my forte, but this had to have taken her hours.

"You didn't have to cook, you know."

"I know. But I had to do something. I was going crazy." Bella grinned at me. "Besides, you have a fabulous kitchen."

"Where did the food come from?" I knew my refrigerator. Other than beverages, condiments, and breakfast food, it was empty.

"Alice and I went to lunch, and then she was kind enough to take me to the grocery store."

The chicken was juicy and flavorful; I wasn't sure I'd ever had baked chicken of this caliber before. "This is excellent."

Bella blushed. "Thanks." She ducked her head and concentrated on eating her food.

Something occurred to me then. I had been so concerned about our story being believable that I hadn't thought of Bella as a person with needs. There was a ring on her finger, but Emmett was right- she was essentially a prisoner here. She needed Alice to take her anywhere she needed to go if I wasn't here.

I reached into my wallet and slid a black credit card across the table to Bella. "This is for you to use, until yours arrives. The credit card company is aware you have permission to use it."

"Edward, I don't want your money," Bella said, shaking her head. "You've already done so much, I can't take this."

"You can and should. Buy whatever you need to make yourself at home here; you're going to be here a while."

Bella hesitated, then laid her fingers over top of the card. "Thank you," she said softly.

"If you need to drive somewhere, the keys to the cars in the garage are on hooks inside the kitchen pantry. Do you know how to drive a manual transmission car?"

"No."

"Then I recommend the Mercedes."

"I can't drive a Mercedes!"

"It's the only automatic."

"Oh." Bella frowned. "I hate being dependent on someone else."

"Sometimes you just have to let people help you. Emmett stopped by my office today and asked me to give you these." I withdrew her driver's license and her passport from my interior pocket and set them on the table. She glanced at them and smiled as she pocketed them. I ought to have mentioned the other things Emmett was going to give her, but somehow I preferred to let her think I thought of those things.

Dinner conversation continued in an impersonal vein. I wanted to say more, to have a meaningful conversation with this beautiful stranger who was living in my house, but I wasn't sure how to proceed. I wanted her to feel safe here, and I wasn't sure how she could do that if she was worried about me coming on to her.

After dinner, Bella and I cleaned up together in silence, and then she went upstairs to her room. I worked for several hours and then went to bed.

**Tuesday, March 25, 2008**

I had called Bella from work to let her know that we would be going out to dinner tonight. I selected Julio's, in part because it was one of my favorite restaurants, and in part because it was fairly casual and we were unlikely to be noticed. It would be a good opportunity to practice being out as a couple.

We were in the car together now, and every once in a while I would catch a whiff of her hair as she turned her head. It was distracting in the extreme, such that I wasn't much of a conversationalist.

As soon as we walked into the restaurant, I relaxed. The atmosphere was noisy and buoyant, and Bella seemed at ease, even as I held her hand as we entered.

"Two, please," I said.

The hostess led us to the middle of the restaurant, and I didn't like that at all. I asked to be moved to a corner booth, and the hostess promptly obliged. I caught Bella's intense stare, and I wondered if she had seen the money leave my hand. I didn't want her to think of me as rich and entitled, even though I was.

I ordered a margarita. Bella ordered water.

I ordered a second margarita. Bella hesitated, and ordered a beer.

I was probably corrupting her, but in her situation, I doubt anyone would begrudge her a few stiff drinks. A beer seemed mild in comparison.

Bella noticeably relaxed as she drained her beer, and I wondered if perhaps a massage therapist would be beneficial. I made a mental note to ask Alice if she knew anyone.

The waitress appeared again, standing even closer to me this time than she had before. She even leaned forward a bit, showing me her cleavage. This sort of thing happened to me all the time and would not have been notable, except for Bella's response.

Bella leaned across the table, brushing her hand over mine. "What will you be having tonight, sweetheart?"

My mouth twitched. Bella was adorable when she played at being jealous. After we ordered our food, conversation flowed easily.

"Edward, can I ask you a question?"

"You can ask me anything."

"Anything?"

"I may or may not answer, but I invite you to ask."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Why do I get the feeling that you wouldn't answer any interesting questions?"

"You'll never know unless you ask."

"Well, this isn't interesting, but I've been wondering it for a while." She took a sip of her beer. "What the heck would your prospective fiancée do?"

"Are you bored?"

"Well, kind of. I mean, what do your people do?"

"My people?"

"You know, the rich people."

"It varies. Alice is a designer. Rosalie is home with her girls. My mother throws charity benefits. If you truly want something to do, I'm sure my mother would be delighted to have your help. Or if there was anything you wanted to study, you could take classes online."

Bella looked thoughtful. "I hadn't considered that."

"Or you could be a lady of leisure, lounging by the pool."

"Ri-i-i-ight. Because so many people lounge by the pool in March in Seattle."

"The pool is heated, and there are heat lamps near it. You'd be fine."

"You're kidding."

"I like to swim. Why do you think I have someone take care of the pool?"

"Oh. I didn't really think about it. I don't swim."

I stared at her. "How can you not swim?"

The waitress reappeared, and Bella's slim hand was suddenly on my forearm. The waitress flashed me a peek at her cleavage and Bella glared at her.

"That woman cannot take a hint."

"She's not particularly subtle, either," I said with a grin. I was enjoying this a little bit too much.

We lingered over our meal, chatting about our memories of high school. We had very different experiences. Bella went to a public school, the only high school in her small town. I went to an elite prep school on the east coast. Superficially, we had nothing in common, but our conversation never stalled. We both enjoyed classical music. We both felt out of place in high school. We both punished ourselves under the weight of our parents' expectations. It was like a first date, only more personal.

The last time the waitress came toward us, Bella came around the booth and planted herself in my lap. My arms wrapped around her automatically, and I inhaled her hair.

Bella cast the waitress a simpering smile. "Could we have an order of flan please? We'll only need one spoon."

The waitress whirled and left us quickly.

Bella giggled, her arms still wrapped around my neck. "Did you see the look on her face?"

No, I didn't see the look on the waitress's face. All of my attention was on Bella, and the lovely sound of her laughter.

**Wednesday, March 26, 2008**

"Ready?"

"Maybe I should go a different day." Bella was pulling at the hem of her skirt. I wasn't sure if she was trying to make her skirt longer or if she was merely nervous.

"Today is a perfect day."

Bella and I were both dressed in suits. I eyed her legs; she looked better in her suit than I looked in mine. Bella was coming to work with me this morning. The Cullen Foundation had approximately 450 employees in our Seattle headquarters, with a couple of small satellite offices in other parts of the country. The foundation was a large part of both my identity and my family's identity. I was certain she would know me better if she saw what I did at work.

We arrived in the lobby and waited for an elevator. I had my hand on Bella's arm, and I could feel the tension in her body.

"There's no reason to be nervous."

Bella didn't answer.

We rode the elevator together. Bella turned slightly green as the elevator zipped upward.

"Are you okay?" I murmured as we stepped out.

"I think my ears popped."

After that inauspicious beginning, the morning improved. The tension never left Bella's frame, but she managed to appear relaxed and charming as I gave her the grand tour and introduced her to my colleagues.

Bella sat in on a presentation about the Cullen Foundation's mission that we showed to prospective interns. She seemed very impressed by our initiatives, and I may have preened a bit more than was necessary. My colleagues saw my preening as proof of my affection for Bella, so no harm was done. I caught several of my male employees checking her out, and I was ridiculously pleased she was wearing my ring, however false a symbol it was.

After work we went to dinner at a small, Italian hole-in-the-wall that I had always favored. We had a leisurely dinner, wherein we discussed the lousy jobs we held in high school. Bella's first job was a car-hop at a fifties diner, complete with roller skates. She had the scars on her knees to prove it.

We caught the symphony playing, and our mutual love of Mozart provided relaxed conversation for the entire evening.

**Thursday, March 27, 2008**

It was Bella's night, and I had agreed to submit to whatever she wanted to do. She wanted to play pool, so we planned to visit a nearby dive bar with decent tables.

Bella came downstairs, looking sexy as hell in blue jeans and a fitted sweater. I smiled at the sight of her. My eyes lingered along the vee of her neckline.

"Ready?" I asked, forcing my gaze back up to her face.

Bella was staring at me.

I glanced down at my clothes, trying to figure out if my shirt was on backwards or some other strange thing. "What?"

"Nothing, it's just, you look so normal."

"Hmm." I wasn't sure how to respond to that.

"No, no, not in a bad way. You look great, like always. It's just, you're wearing _jeans_."

I barely registered her last sentence, because my brain fixated on the part where she said I looked great. I reminded myself forcefully that she was merely trying to be friendly. Belatedly, I realized she expected me to respond. "You're wearing jeans too, you know. We're going to a bar."

Bella smiled at me. "It has been forever since I've been out to a bar."

We drove to the bar in what felt like companionable silence. I resisted the urge to look at her while I was driving, keeping my eyes on the road. When we arrived, I helped her out of the car. We walked into the bar, my hand on the small of her back.

Men noticed Bella immediately. The likelihood of us seeing anyone who knew me here was slim to none, so it probably didn't matter whether we pretended to be engaged or not. Still, the longer we pretended to be engaged, the better we played our parts. When I saw a man leer at Bella from across the room, I pulled her close to me and planted a kiss on her soft neck.

When I pulled away, Bella whipped her head around, her wide brown eyes meeting mine. I gave her my best innocent look. I thought she might say something, but she didn't. It was the first time I'd ever touched my lips to her skin, and I had to restrain myself to keep from doing it again.

I reluctantly released Bella and walked over to the bar. I gave the man behind the bar my driver's license in exchange for a set of balls and noticed that Bella had already obtained a table and a cue stick.

"Only one cue stick?"

"It was the only halfway decent one," Bella said as she critically assessed the tip. "I figured we could share."

"Eight Ball?"

Bella shook her head. "I'd rather play Nine Ball."

"Know your way around a pool table, do you?"

"I've played a few times before," she said with a sly smile. "You?"

"I'm tolerable," I said. I hoped she was at least a decent pool player, because otherwise my plan to let her win would be foiled. She'd been under a lot of stress, she wasn't eating enough, and she'd already smiled more tonight than in whole first week of our acquaintance. I wasn't about to ruin it by beating her at pool on her night out.

"Do you want to break, or shall I?"

"Ladies first," I said, racking the balls on the table, taking care to make sure all the balls were touching each other.

Bella chalked her cue and skillfully shattered the diamond formation. Balls bounced wildly off the rails, and finally the five ball rolled into a corner pocket. Bella sunk the one, the two, and the four ball before scratching over a failed attempt to hit the three ball.

I picked up the cue ball and set it on the table where I could easily sink the three. I then pocketed the six and seven, leaving the last two balls for Bella.

I won't mention how many men I caught staring at her ass as she leaned over the pool table. Bella was completely oblivious to their attention, something that both amused and irritated me. The irritating part was that because she didn't notice, she practically encouraged them with her deep leans over the table. I found myself constantly standing behind her to shield her from other men's lascivious thoughts. Of course, my defensive position behind me gave me a rather nice view.

Bella won the first game handily. She was better than decent, she was good. After the first game, I stopped worrying about who won and who lost. She was good enough that I no longer felt compelled to throw the game.

I was a bit surprised when I missed a shot on an open table in the second game, but Bella wasn't. She was smug. Her eyes were bright and sparkly, and she grinned at me as she cleaned the table and then called the nine ball in the side pocket. She tapped the cue ball with a soft touch, and the nine ball rolled slowly and then fell with a satisfying thunk.

"That's two games for me," she said, as though I weren't capable of counting on my own.

"Who taught you to play?"

Bella's face fell, and I hastily backtracked. "Sorry I asked. I didn't realize it was personal."

"No, it's okay. My dad taught me to play."

I winced. "I guess you don't see your parents anymore."

"I didn't see my parents anyway." Bella's soft voice was barely audible over the din in the pool hall. "My mom died of cancer last year. And my dad, well he was a cop; he was killed in the line of duty. He's the big reason I decided to… you know."

My mind filled in the words she left out. Her dad, a public servant, was the reason she had decided to testify. With her parents gone, it was no wonder she was all on her own. Bella's eyes filled with tears that threatened to spill down her cheeks. I wasn't aware that I moved, but moments later she was in my arms, sobbing softly. I rested my chin on her head and held her tightly.

Several minutes passed before Bella pulled away. "I'm sorry. I don't know what's come over me."

I pulled her back to me and said softly, "It's okay. You're not alone."

She took several deep breaths, trying to collect herself, and then she relaxed against me. I was conscious of the feel of her body pressed against mine. I didn't want to pull away, but the innocent part of this hug had disappeared. I loosened my arms around her, and thankfully she stepped away.

I made the executive decision that we were finished playing pool for the night. I retrieved my driver's license and led Bella back to the car.

"It's still your night. What now?"

"Milkshakes?"

Twenty minutes later we were parked at a drive-in diner, and Bella was scarfing down a pineapple milkshake. Mine was strawberry, because apparently I'm not that adventurous. Bella's mood improved exponentially as she finished her milkshake. It was a rare clear night in Seattle, and I slid back the cover of the moonroof so that we could recline our seats and look at the stars.

Well, Bella looked at the stars. I watched Bella.

"Edward? Have you ever been in love? Really in love?"

I considered carefully before answering. There had been women in my past, of course, and I'd considered proposing to a couple, but had I loved them? "Not truly. Or perhaps more accurate, not enough."

"Me neither."

Bella shifted in her seat so she was facing me, and her tongue darted out to lick her lips. "Thank you for the milkshake."

Desire flickered in me, but I held it in check. My time with Bella was turning into a delicious torture, indeed. Tomorrow we would attend Bella's first charity gala. Saturday we were spending the day with my parents. I was privately relieved to be leaving for Haiti on Sunday. Two weeks without Bella would surely dull the attraction and give me perspective.


	6. March 28 to April 2, 2008

**Author's Note: **

Many thanks to my two betas, movieandbookgirl and Debussy_This.

**Chapter 6**

**Friday, March 28, 2008**

**Bella**

The week had been the best one I had experienced in months. Tuesday night, I had my first night of good sleep in I couldn't remember how long. No nightmares. I slept Wednesday and Thursday night as well. The difference in my outlook on the world after three nights of sound sleep was amazing. Even my appetite was returning. I felt like a new woman.

I looked like a new woman, too. Never in my life, until now, had I worn an evening gown. Edward and I were attending a charity gala to benefit education for children with autism. I wasn't sure how dressing up in fancy clothes helped the children, but Edward assured me that the people attending had also written significant checks toward the cause. When I pointed out that the checks could be much larger if the money spent on the gala were funneled to the children, he laughed and told me that rich people needed the gala so they could pat themselves on the back.

I descended the stairs carefully, mindful of the ridiculously high heels Alice had insisted upon. I was so busy watching the placement of my feet that I didn't see Edward until he took my arm at the bottom of the steps.

It was good he was holding me when I saw him, because otherwise I would have surely fallen when I met his gaze.

At our close proximity, the heat of his stare made my stomach turn circles. He leaned in closer to me and murmured in my ear, "You're stunning tonight."

I swallowed hard. I tried not to be cool and nonchalant, but all I could get out was a squeaky sounding, "You, too,"which was the understatement of the century. He was wearing a tux. It was all I could do to keep from staring at him.

We were chauffeured to the charity gala, and shutters flashed as Edward helped me out of the car. I didn't see the photographers, because Edward kept his body between me and them. I had initially thought it was a coincidence, but he successfully shielded me from photographers as much as possible all the way into the building. I felt a swell of affection for him.

First we had dinner, and I was relieved that Alice had taken time to talk me through what the place setting would be like. The chairs were so close together that it was hard to tell what belonged to whom. I almost reached for Edward's bread plate on my right, but I heard Alice chanting in my head _land is to your left, water is to your right_.

I made conversation as best I could, but I mostly listened to Edward. He was in his element, charming and conversing intelligently about a variety of topics. If someone had asked me later, I couldn't have told them what he said. Watching the play of emotions across his face and listening to the timbre of his voice absorbed my complete attention.

After dinner, we moved to the ballroom. The ballroom was huge. Half of it was set up with tables for dessert or socializing, half was set up for dancing. Edward led me to a table where I deposited my clutch.

"Would you like a glass of wine?" he asked.

"Just water, please." After my last experience with wine, the one that had me ready to throw myself at him, I wasn't quite ready to try it again. If I threw myself at him in public, though, wouldn't he have to go along with it? That was an intriguing thought, but the last thing I wanted was to make him uncomfortable with me. We'd been doing so well; I didn't want to ruin it.

Edward returned with a glass of red wine for himself and a glass of water for me. We sipped and chatted, and then he asked me the question I'd been dreading.

"Will you dance with me?"

I shook my head. "Sorry, but I don't dance."

He frowned. "Bella, dancing is what people do here."

"I know, but you know how clumsy I am." _Especially in these shoes_, I added silently. "I'm sorry, but I can't dance at all."

"One dance? I won't lead you astray, I promise."

He was sincere, and I almost gave in. And then the visions paraded through my head: me maiming his feet with my stilettos, me falling down and taking him with me, him wishing he were dancing with anyone but me. No one would ever be able to believe we were together. Worse, some photographer would probably snap a picture to immortalize my shame.

"Sorry, Edward, I just can't."

"Please?"

I shook my head.

He sighed and looked away.

This was going to be a long night.

After several minutes of silence, I excused myself to go to the ladies room. When I returned, I wound my way through the tables toward where I left Edward, approaching him from behind.

He was seated at our table chatting amiably with a leggy strawberry blonde standing next to him.

I froze. I could just make out their conversation.

"Why are you sitting here?" she asked, her voice a little too syrupy for my liking. "I expected you to be dancing."

"Hello to you, too."

"Where is this fiancée of yours about whom I hear tell?"

"She stepped away."

"Too bad," she said, her voice not remotely sincere. "Will you dance with me tonight, or are saving all your dances for your sweetheart?"

"She doesn't dance."

"No! And you're marrying her anyway? She must be phenomenal in bed."

I could make out enough of Edward's profile to see him crack a smile at that, which she took as an invitation.

"Well, if she doesn't dance, surely she wouldn't begrudge you a few dances with me."

Edward hesitated.

"Come on, Edward. You're a marvelous dancer. It would be criminal for you to sit at a table all night." She took his hand and he stood.

He glanced around. Was he looking for me? I almost called out to him, but what was there to say? Unless I was going to tell him to dance with me, it seemed ridiculous to stop him from dancing with someone else. We weren't really and truly engaged, after all.

He led her out to the dance floor. I watched them dance. They were both accomplished dancers. People around them stepped aside as they glided across the floor. They looked like they belonged together and it made the bile rise in my throat. I stayed out of Edward's sight, my eyes glued to him. He danced three dances with her, each time holding her closer than the last. At the end of the third dance, I saw their heads close together. I was almost positive that Edward kissed her before he escorted her off the floor.

They didn't return to the table, so I decided it was safe to go back there myself. At least Edward would know where to find me when he was ready to leave. If he was planning to leave with me at all. I fetched myself a glass of water and tried not to think about the things he might be doing with that other girl.

I nursed my water, feeling thoroughly sorry for myself, even though I had no reason to. It wasn't as though he was cheating on me. I had no claim on him. By pretending to be my fiancé, he was keeping me safe. Nowhere had anyone told me he had to pretend to be a _faithful _fiancé.

Two women sat down together on the far side of the table. They were gossiping none too quietly. One of them had long, dyed blond hair. The other had curly brown hair. They were attractive in a superficial way, and I understood, looking at them, why Jacob had been surprised by my looks. It was obvious I didn't belong in this crowd.

The blond one said, "Did you hear Edward Cullen got engaged? Supposedly he brought her tonight."

The brunette snapped, "I'll believe it when I see it. I was dating him last month. It's been what, a few weeks?"

"He moves fast. I heard she's poor."

"That wouldn't surprise me. All the rich boys want to play Prince Charming to Cinder-fucking-ella. Did you know Rosalie Cullen was a stripper before she met Emmett?"

"No way, Jess. I heard she was a cocktail waitress."

"Same difference." The one called Jess tossed her head. "Either way, she was never remotely in Emmett's league."

The blonde was speculative. "Do you think Emmett's faithful to her? I would be up for some sidelines action with him."

"I don't know and I don't care. I can't believe Edward would break up with me to get engaged to some low-class slut."

"What makes you think she's a slut?"

"No one gets engaged that fast unless the sex is mind-blowing."

"Isn't that him, over there dancing with Tanya?"

I couldn't take it anymore. That Edward had apparently dated one of these… _women_ was bad enough. That they were talking about Emmett and Rosalie was rude. Yes, Emmett was attractive, but he was married and off limits. And now they were manufacturing gossip about me? Ugh.

WWEFD?

Edward's glass of red wine was sitting on the table still, almost untouched. I pushed my chair back and stood up, picking up the wine glass. Those two girls were so wrapped up in their mean-spirited gossip that I don't think they noticed I was at the table, much less that I was now standing.

As casually as I could, I walked around the table. When I neared the brown-haired girl, I accidentally-on-purpose tripped.

Red wine splashed across her yellow dress.

Her response was immediate. "You bitch! Look what you did!"

"So sorry," I said, mustering up a fake smile.

"This is an original Valentino!"

It wasn't like me to talk back, but I was pretty sure that Edward's fiancé would have the chutzpah to stand up for herself.

I squared my shoulders and said the most cutting comment that came to mind. "It doesn't matter. Whether your dress is stained or clean, you haven't got what it takes to hold the attention of either of the Cullen men."

"Like you could," she retorted.

I let my hand float up to my chest, making sure my ring caught the light. "Edward seems more than satisfied."

The girl's voice took on a tone of pure venom. "I pity you when you discover how short Edward's attention span is."

A comment like that would have made Marie Swan cry, but I reminded myself I was Bella Lawson.

"Don't hold your breath," I said sweetly. "When Edward put this ring on my finger, he told me sex with me was the best he'd ever had." I gave her one last faux smile and then I grabbed my clutch. "Oh, and I'll be sure to tell Rosalie that you send your regards."

I stalked off to another table on the other side of the room and sat down. My heartbeat was going lickety-split and I was breathing too fast. I'd never confronted anyone like that before. I took a deep, calming breath. I was going to be okay. I wasn't the first person in the world to tell someone off. This had to happen all the time in this set of people, right?

"Is this seat taken?"

I glanced up in surprise and saw a tall, middle-aged man standing next to me. His mouth was crooked in a half-smile, and I realized he was waiting for a response.

"Um, no, it's not," I stammered out.

He pulled out the chair next to me and sat down. "I hate these affairs, don't you?"

"This is my first one," I replied. Why did he come if he hated them? I looked at him more closely. He was significantly older than I was, but he was tan and fit. I imagined him as the kind of man with a young trophy wife.

"What is a beautiful girl like you doing here alone?"

I was about to respond, but instead I almost jumped when a hand grasped my shoulder.

"She's not alone," said Edward's smooth voice.

"Edward, how nice to see you," the man replied in a congenial voice that did nothing to persuade me he was sincere. "I should have known."

"Laurent, meet my fiancée, Bella."

"Bella, the pleasure is mine."

I reached up to shake his hand, but he drew my hand toward him and kissed it instead. Edward's grip tightened on my shoulder.

"Bella and I were leaving, perhaps we'll catch up another time?"

"Of course, Edward." Laurent flashed me a smile and then sauntered off.

I stood up and faced Edward. "We're leaving?"

"Unless you would like to stay longer." It almost seemed he gave a pointed look at Laurent's retreating form as he said that, but I must have imagined it. That man was probably fifteen years older than I was. Edward couldn't possibly think I was interested in someone like that. And besides, we were out in public. I wouldn't dream of jeopardizing Edward's reputation in front of all these people he knows. _Never mind that he has no such qualms where my feelings are concerned_, I added silently.

I shook my head, suddenly tired. "Let's go home."

Edward took my hand in his and led me out. For that moment, I let myself forget about the whole evening and focused instead on the feel of his hand on mine.

"How long does a gala like that last?" I asked, when a glance at the car clock told me it was only 9 P.M.

"Late."

"Isn't it kind of early to leave?"

Edward shrugged.

I wanted to ask him if he had a good time dancing with Tanya, but I was afraid that would come out sounding snide, so I didn't. Also, I was afraid I might cry, and even though my mascara was supposedly waterproof I did not want to look like a raccoon.

**Saturday, March 29, 2008**

We were supposed to go to Edward's parents' house today. I canceled our plans on account of being sick and confined myself to my bedroom.

I wasn't sick in the traditional sense, though I told Edward I had a sore throat and a headache. I felt sick because, well, just because. It wasn't because I saw him last night having fun with another girl and it made me feel inferior. It wasn't.

Yes, yes it was.

I knew the day I met him that he was totally out of my league. So why did it hurt so much to see the evidence?

Edward was keeping me safe by pretending to be engaged to me. He was doing me a big favor and I had no right to ask any more of him. So what if being with him bruised my ego a little bit?

This was a price I would pay to testify against the Volturi. I was tough. I was adaptable. I could deal with it.

Yes, I could deal with it very well. That was why I was hiding in my bedroom, pretending to be sick.

**Sunday, March 30, 2008**

Edward left in the morning for two weeks in Haiti, and I'm not sure I'd ever been so grateful for someone's absence.

Yesterday, he kept trying to make me feel better. Every four hours, like clockwork, he brought me Tylenol. He even went out and bought me soup for lunch.

How could I blame him for not noticing that his kindness was making me feel worse? I hated that it bothered me to see him with someone else. I hated lying to him, especially when he was trying so hard to be nice to me. I hated knowing that my presence was an inconvenience to him, standing in the way of his love life. What if he met the love of his life and she wouldn't look at him twice because she thought he was engaged to me?

Maybe now that he was gone for a little while I could stop thinking about him and that Tanya person. He was within his rights to flirt with whomever he wanted. We weren't engaged. He didn't owe me anything. I owed him everything.

I moped around the house all day. When Alice called to see if I wanted to visit for dinner, I croaked into the phone and told her I was still sick.

She hastily withdrew her invitation, citing the baby's health.

Edward called in the late afternoon to let me know he arrived in Haiti and to ask if I was feeling any better.

I lied and told him I was.

I ate crackers for dinner and watched Lifetime until I fell asleep on the couch.

**Monday, March 31, 2008 **

I woke up with a crick in my neck and my heart thumping from a nightmare.

Late night Lifetime TV would give anyone nightmares, right?

Emmett had promised the house was under constant covert surveillance while he verified the Volturi thought I was dead. Edward had showed me how to arm the alarm. Neither of these things made a difference to the fear in the pit of my belly.

I don't think I was afraid of an immediate threat, I'd faced plenty of those. I wasn't afraid to testify. No, I had made my peace with that months ago. The sense of fear I was experiencing was unidentifiable- it was more a sense of deep foreboding than anything else.

I bundled myself in blankets even though the thermostat was set to 72.

I felt like I should do something, go somewhere, but I wanted nothing more than to hide myself from the world.

**Tuesday, April 1, 2008 **

I was going stir-crazy. I hadn't been out of the house since Friday. The prospect of another day in the house, even in Edward's sizable house, was enough to make me cringe. It had been hard enough to occupy myself during the day when Edward was in town. Now that there was no prospect of seeing him in the evenings, melancholy sunk in.

I missed him, but it didn't matter, because I was sure he was off doing whatever thing it was he planned to do in Haiti, not thinking about me at all. Was it wrong to wish he was suffering too, just a little? This whole situation was just a cruel reminder of all the things I would never have: I would never have a fiancée. I would never have a family. I would never have a house. After the trial started, I probably wouldn't even have a life.

And I was okay with that.

At least, I was okay with that before I met Edward.

The worst part was that I couldn't get him out of my mind. The vision of him at the gala the other night, gliding across the floor and necking with Tanya, was seared into my brain. To him, I was a charity case that would last a little while, and then he would go on and find a real fiancée. It bothered him when I talked to other men, but it was perfectly fine for him to go gallivanting around with someone else. Heck, people probably expected him to cheat on me, rich playboy that he was.

Guilt overtook me.

He wasn't a playboy. Somehow life was easier when I could convince myself that he was a cold, rich, entitled jerk. Unfortunately, now that I knew him better, I was pretty sure he wasn't a jerk at all.

He ran a charitable foundation. He loved his nieces and his family. He was in Haiti, right now, spending two weeks in a third-world country to make sure that the money from his family's organization was actually going to the right people. He took me in, though it meant he had to pretend to be engaged to me and cripple his own social life.

Last week, each night he took me out, he treated me like a person. No, not just a person- he treated me like I was his fiancée, and I ate it up. I knew it was all an act, but it felt real. And then reality slapped me in the face when I saw him dancing with Tanya.

I was depressed. I longed for my friends back home, but of course they thought I was dead. I couldn't exactly call them, now could I?

I desperately wanted to talk to someone.

I considered calling Alice, but every time we spoke I felt guilty about deceiving her. She had been nothing but kind to me, and she was ridiculously happy I was joining her family. Emmett, too, was out of the question. He knew the truth about me better than anyone, but he was at work. Even if he had been home, though, it seemed somehow inappropriate. He'd already given me so much, I couldn't ask for more from him. The last thing I needed was to have Rosalie pissed at me any more than she already was. I was not going to call Edward. He'd done more than enough for me already, and I didn't want him to see this pitiful side of me.

I toyed with the idea of going somewhere. The garage had cars in it, and I had access to the keys, but I wasn't that familiar with the area. Knowing me, I would probably get lost and have to call Alice to ask how to get back to Edward's house. No thanks.

I glanced outside and saw Jacob's VW Rabbit in the driveway.

After the first day, none of the house staff had said so much as one word to me, Jake included. I was pretty sure Edward had told them to stay away from me. I keenly remembered his anger when Jake had flirted with me; he had been worried that someone in the press would find out about it and there would be stories of me cheating on him with the gardener.

One thing I had learned about Edward during my brief time in this house was that he had a tendency to overreact. What would it hurt to talk to Jake a little bit? Nobody would see us here at the house. We were on private property. Edward wasn't home, wouldn't be home for almost two weeks.

Surely Edward wouldn't begrudge me a little bit of company. And if Jake didn't get all of his work done today, well, it's not like Edward would be around to notice. The flowers wouldn't tattle on me.

I pulled on my beat-up sweatshirt and laced up my grungy old tennis shoes; they were the last remnants of my old life, and wearing them made me feel a little more grounded. Before I could talk myself out of it, I strolled outside to the gardens where Jake was working.

"Hey," I said, flashing him the brightest smile I could muster.

He grinned back at me, his voice teasing as he spoke. "So the lady comes down from her tower to associate with the serf."

"Funny you should say that, considering you're the one who stopped talking to me." I sat down on the grass near where he was working.

"I do what the boss-man tells me. And he told me in no uncertain terms to stay away from you."

"Then why are you talking to me now, if you do what he tells you?"

"Hey, I stayed away from you. I can't control if you decide to come near me." Jake shot me a sly smile, and wiped his hands on the side of his jeans. "I'm a little surprised you're talking to me, though. I was pretty sure he told you to stay away from me, too."

"Edward's not my boss."

Jake gave a low whistle as his eyes fastened on my ring finger. "When did he give you that?"

"Last week."

"That's more like a rock than a ring."

"I know!" I giggled. "That's exactly what I said." Talking to Jake was a great idea. I was feeling better already.

Jake gave me a shrewd look. "Boss-man couldn't be bothered to pick out a ring you'd actually like, could he?"

No, no, no. Maybe this was not such a good idea. "I love it," I said, trying not to sound defensive.

Jake snorted. "Sure, sure. If you love that ring, then I'm from Mars."

I poked him. "You don't look like an alien to me…"

"I see they've already started changing you to make you look more like one of them."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You were beautiful before, you didn't need to change your hair and start wearing make-up."

"I did this for me," I said. "I needed a change."

"Ri-i-ight." He shook his head, then looked me straight in the eye."To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this fine morning?"

"Just wanted some company."

"If you were my fiancée, I wouldn't go traipsing off for weeks at a time without taking you with me."

"That's it," I snapped. "I'm not going to talk to you if you're going to spend our whole conversation ripping on Edward. You don't know the whole situation and you're not being fair."

Jake held up his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say, Bella."

"Why do you even work for him if you don't like him?"

"Look around, Bella," Jacob said, gesturing in a circle with his arms. "It doesn't get much better than this for a landscape artist like myself. Besides, it's rare to find someone who doesn't mind paying for the extra work associated with forgoing chemicals."

I glanced around at the immaculate gardens. "Edward doesn't use weed killer or anything?"

"Nope. He doesn't want to harm the local wildlife."

I smiled. "That's sweet of him."

Jake rolled his eyes in response.

"It is!"

"It doesn't matter how he treats you, he's still a stand-up guy if he's good to Bambi and Thumper?"

"Ugh. You can't help yourself, can you?" I turned on my heel and started back for the house. "I can't listen to this anymore."

Jake called after me, but I kept walking. I went back into the house and upstairs to Edward's library. He had a nice collection of Greek mythology, and that fit well with my tragic mood.

**Wednesday, April 2, 2008 **

Wednesday came; it was no better than Tuesday. I tried to strike up a conversation with the pool boy, but that went nowhere. He answered my questions monosyllabically and never met my eyes. I saw that Jake was in the gardens, but I ignored him. Having something to do (ignoring Jake), however peripherally, improved my mood a miniscule amount.

That night I dreamed it was the night before the trial. I was lying in Edward's arms.

When the Volturi came to kill me, they shot us both.

I woke up Thursday morning in soaking sheets, thinking I was drenched in blood, but there was none. I was just hot and worked up.

I took an extra-long shower that morning; I was trying to wash away both my sweat and my fears. The former was easy to cleanse, the latter, not so much.

Jacob arrived while I was eating breakfast. He knocked on the front door instead of going straight around to the back.

I opened the door.

"What do you want?" The combination of my tiredness and my irritation made the words sound sharp.

"Bella, look, I want to apologize." His hands were in his pockets, and he gazed down at the ground.

"You do?"

"Obviously, I have no idea what goes on between you and Edward. And he's not a bad guy, overall. I was just ripping on him because I like you." He looked up at me with a sheepish look. "Sorry I said those things."

"Oh." I wasn't sure what to say to that, but my irritation with him evaporated.

"Anyway, I need to get to work," he said. He pivoted on his heel and walked back down the steps.

As the morning wore on, I tried to entertain myself in Edward's rather extensive library, but it was to no avail.

Never before had it bothered me so much that most of classic literature was depressing.

I slid deeper and deeper into my funk.

In the early afternoon, I finally decided I needed some sustenance. I made myself a sandwich and ate it in the kitchen. I could see Jake outside in the garden. He was blasting rock music loudly enough that I could hear it inside the house. His lips were moving, and I wondered if he was singing along. I wasn't aware my feet were moving, but I found myself pulling on a jacket and stepping outside.

Jacob didn't hear me approach, the music was too loud and his focus was on the ground. It wasn't until I was standing directly in front of him-I imagine he noticed my shoes-that he looked up and smiled at me.

I plopped myself gracelessly down upon the ground in front of him.

"Does this mean I'm forgiven?" he asked.

"Yes. But no more talking about Edward, okay?"


	7. April 7 to April 11, 2008

**Author's Note: **

Thanks again to Movieandbookgirl and Debussy_This for looking over the chapter.

**Chapter 7**

**Monday, April 7, 2008 **

**Bella**

Over the past week, my nightmares had worsened, and the shadows under my eyes grew steadily darker. I stopped looking in the mirror so I wouldn't have to see how haggard I looked. I tried to keep eating, but I wasn't hungry. My biggest meals were when I visited with Alice, mostly because it was easier to eat than it was to argue with her. She worried that I hadn't recovered from being 'sick' earlier, and I didn't bother correcting her.

For the last several days, I'd spoken with Jacob each day. I would be lying if I didn't acknowledge that our discussions were bright spots in the darkness. He was unfailingly chipper. He was funny. He liked me. Spending time with him gave me warm fuzzies.

The only taint on it was that I knew Edward would disapprove. I had spoken to Edward on the phone several times since he left. All of our conversations were short and impersonal. I hadn't bothered to mention my interactions with Jacob. After all, Edward's public show of affection with that other woman at the charity gala had reminded me that we had no hold on each other. I was only talking to Jacob, and I was doing it in private.

I was *this close* to telling Jacob the truth about me yesterday. I'd been up late last night, pondering whether it was the right thing to do.

Jake was my friend, and I was lying to him constantly about me and Edward. It sucked.

Yes, lying to Edward's family sucked too, but that was different. That lie was Edward's. They were his loved ones, and he bore the primary responsibility for that deception. The lie to Jacob felt personal. He was the friend I chose for myself.

I hated lying. I especially hated lying about _this_. Every time Jake and I spoke, I could see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to figure out how on earth I ended up with Edward.

I wasn't supposed to tell a soul.

But the state of _my_ soul was what I was concerned about. All of the deceptions were like a disease, and they were making me sicker with each passing minute. I needed someone to talk to. Someone friendly. Someone who knew me. Someone who liked me, who wasn't obligated to pretend to like me.

If Jake couldn't keep my secret, well, that was a risk I was willing to take. It was my life on the line, and I trusted him. I knew Emmett would be appalled if he ever found out, but he would never have to know. I think deep down, Emmett would want me to do whatever I needed to do to stay sane. And I needed this.

I was hungry for breakfast for the first time in days. Emboldened by my decision to tell Jake, I scarfed down a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. I knew he had already arrived without bothering to look for his car out front.

I put my bowl and glass in the sink, not even bothering to rinse them. I laced up my tennis shoes and practically ran out the door. It had rained all day yesterday, and the ground was muddy. By the time I reached him, my shoes were brown and mud was caked on the bottom of my pant leg. My face wore what I imagined was a maniacal grin.

I could only imagine what Edward would have said if he could see me now. Edward was always so polished and proper, it was hard to envision what he might say. It wouldn't be flattering, of that I was sure. Jake, in direct contrast, saw me, took in my appearance and facial expression and grinned at me devilishly.

"Whatever you just did, you should do it every morning. I haven't seen you this happy ever."

"I made a decision."

Jake arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Can you take a break for about a half hour so I can tell you something?"

He looked around him, his eyes taking in the state of the ground. He had clearly been in the middle of working on something, and for a moment I had a flash of uncertainty about interrupting him.

My uncertainty disappeared when he gave me another grin. "Sure. Give me about ten minutes to wrap up here and I'll meet you in the house."

I practically skipped back.

Two minutes later, Jake surprised me by coming up behind me and wrapping me in a bear hug. I hadn't heard him come in, and for a moment I thought the Volturi had sent an assassin into the house. Nightmares with indistinct shapes and faces flitted across my vision.

No one should sneak up like that behind someone who had reason to believe people wanted her dead.

I screamed.

The terror must have shown on my face, because Jake was instantly contrite. "I didn't mean to scare you, Bells."

I shivered. "Sorry, I'm just a little jumpy," I paused, gathering myself back together. "And you said ten minutes!"

"You were so excited. I couldn't concentrate so I came right up."

I gestured for him to have a seat at the bar in the kitchen. I fetched us each a glass of lemonade, and sat down next to him.

I told him everything.

We were there more than hour.

I refilled our lemonade glasses halfway through, in part because it was so intense that I needed a break, but mostly because my grandma used to call lemonade 'talking elixir,' and the presence of the lemonade was comforting.

Jake was riveted to my story. Even I was somewhat captivated by it, and I had lived it. I mused that my comparison weeks ago was not that far off- it was like I was starring in a movie. When I finished my tale, Jake stared at me thoughtfully for several long seconds.

I held my breath, not sure what he would say. Would he believe me? Would he be mad I had deceived him for so long?

Suddenly his face broke out in an impossibly wide grin, and it was like the sun coming out from behind the clouds.

"What?" I asked. I had no idea what could possibly be so joyful about my story. I thought it was pretty damn depressing.

"You're not engaged," he replied. His brown eyes danced.

I shook my head. "Nope."

"That's fantastic news."

"I don't know if I would go _that_ far…" There was a tiny little piece of me that kind of enjoyed pretending to be engaged to Edward. My neck tingled, and I remembered Edward had kissed me there when we were out playing pool. A flush crept into my cheeks, and I ducked my head to hide it from Jacob.

"Oh, I would, Bella," Jake assured me. "You two are from completely different universes."

"You don't have to rub it in."

"Not like that. I mean, you two are just different. From each other." At the look on my face, he added hastily, "And that's a good thing!"

I decided to let that comment slide, and I shifted the subject. "Now you see why it's so upsetting when you badmouth Edward."

Jake considered that for a moment. "Yeah, he's being pretty decent taking you in. Anyone would be lucky to have you, though."

"I'm kind of a disaster, Jake."

"Nah. You're intriguing."

"I love how you just made 'intriguing' a code word for 'disaster.'"

"Do you think they're going to kill you?" Jake's directness startled me.

"Um, well. Honestly?"

"Well?"

I gnawed my lip for a few seconds, keeping my eyes away from him. My voice, when it came out, was a whisper. "Yes."

"Then why are you doing it?"

I met Jake's eyes with my own and tried to convey in that look all of my reasons. When he continued to look at me in askance, I realized I was going to have to say something. I wasn't sure I'd ever articulated the reasons to myself, so it took me a couple of minutes to think of the right words. Jake waited patiently, slowly sipping his lemonade.

I took a deep breath and then the words tumbled out. "Someone has to stop them. What they're doing is so wrong it is sickening. It's not that I even believe _I _can stop them. But I know that I have to try to testify against them, or my life wouldn't be worth living."

Jake didn't buy it at all.

He did not want me to testify. He said we could run off to Mexico together and sip fruity drinks on the sand until the whole mess blew over.

I tried again to explain it, to explain that some things were worth dying for. Jake acknowledged that some things were worth dying for in the abstract, but he didn't think this was worth _me _dying.

Rain was threatening, so he had to go back outside and finish working. I watched him, for a while, but my buoyant mood from earlier had deflated.

**Tuesday, April 8, 2008 **

Full nights of sleep were a thing of the past. I had taken to indulging in catnaps during the day to evade the nightmares. If I set the kitchen timer for twenty minutes, I could have a snippet of dreamless sleep. If I did it often enough, maybe I could piece together a whole night of sleep.

I skipped breakfast. Nothing sounded appealing, not even a bowl of sugary cereal.

I heard Jake arrive, but I didn't want to talk to him. I was feeling fragile enough without facing his judgment of my decision.

I tried to read, but the words swam on the page. I gave up and put in a movie. Halfway through "10 Things I Hate About You," Jake knocked on the door.

I paused it, and grudgingly rose to answer the door.

"Hey," was my low-key greeting.

"Can I come in?"

"It's a free country," I said absently, though I belatedly realized it was private property that didn't belong to me or to Jake, rendering my statement ridiculous.

Jake brushed past me and into the house, removing his shoes at the door so as not to track mud around.

"Bells, I was thinking last night about the things you told me."

"Yeah?"

"I think you should stop moping."

"I'm not moping."

"You kind of are. What movie are you watching?"

"Oh, that. I'm not moping."

Jake laughed. "You're not fooling anyone, you know. You have these grand ideas about making a difference, but you're scared shitless like anyone would be."

I frowned. I was so not in the mood for this. Jake had no clue where I was coming from, and acting like he knew my feelings better than I did was not winning him any affection.

Undeterred by my decided lack of enthusiasm, he continued, "If you think these will be your last months of life, is this how you want to spend them?"

Perhaps he had a point, but I wasn't going to concede anything.

"I think you should make a list of things you want to do, in case you don't have the chance later," he concluded with a bright smile. "I'd be happy to help you, you know."

"I'll think about it." I was still surly about how yesterday's conversation had ended. That combined with sleep deprivation made me undesirable company. I escorted Jake out the door and gave him the best smile I could muster, so he would know I wasn't mad at him.

**Wednesday, April 9, 2008 **

Tuesday night I couldn't sleep. I didn't know if my negative sleep associations were feeding on themselves to make sleep more elusive, or if I was so out of the habit of sleeping that I'd forgotten how.

Instead of sleeping, in the wee hours of Wednesday I made a list of things I wanted to do, like Jake had suggested.

My list ended up being short, because I was a realist. I couldn't bring myself to put 'meet my soul mate and get hitched' on the list. It wasn't as though I would have an opportunity to meet my soul mate before the trial, and even if I did, he wouldn't even notice me because I would be wearing Edward's engagement ring. And if I did meet him, wouldn't he be pretty damn disappointed when the Volturi killed me off? I wouldn't want to wish that on hypothetical him.

I focused on things I could do here. I wanted to put 'jump off a cliff,' because my dad had always joked about people who jump off a cliff just like everyone else. Since I didn't swim and I was afraid of heights, I decided that cliff-jumping was probably not a great list addition. Instead, I put, 'jump off high diving board.' That was a little bit nervy, but not deadly. It was also something that Jake could help me with, and that would make him happy. I listed a couple of other things that I thought were doable. I wanted to learn how to change the oil in my car, even though I no longer had a car. I hoped Jake would let me practice on his car; I didn't want to risk spilling oil in Edward's garage. A chocolate soufflé was also on the list. I was a good cook, but not so much on desserts. I loved chocolate, and if I could accomplish a soufflé, I would be pleased with myself. I added a couple of reading goals as well, since Edward's library was enticing.

After I tired of listing things, I slept in small snatches. I never was comfortable, and though I didn't remember sleeping, I must have slept some, because the night wasn't long enough otherwise.

When Jake arrived in the morning, I was waiting for him outside, list in hand.

"Good morning," I said, quite pleased with myself.

Jake's gaze zeroed directly in on the piece of paper in my hand. "You made a list!"

"It's not much." I didn't want to get his hopes up. It was a short list.

We walked to the backyard together, his arm slung around my shoulders. That was new. I liked it. I leaned into him a little, savoring the physical contact. He noticed, and gave my shoulder a squeeze. I tried not to notice that he gripped me a little too tightly.

Jake worked for a few hours, and I sat on the ground and watched him, occasionally helping when requested. I knew he was dying to ask me about my list, but he was waiting for me to tell him.

I loved watching him work. The play of muscles in his forearms was entrancing.

I made lunch for both of us and brought it outside. It was a rare sunny day, and unseasonably warm at almost seventy degrees. We had a picnic in the yard; a feast of chicken sandwiches, potato salad, and homemade chocolate chip cookies.

"This is delicious," Jake said happily, his mouth full of cookie.

I thought about my list, and decided now was as good of a time as any to broach the subject. "Can you swim?"

"Of course I can." Jake frowned. "Can't you?"

I shook my head. "I can kind of float."

"That's what's on your list? Learning to swim?"

"Not exactly. Learning how to swim would take too long, and these days I'm an instant gratification kind of person."

"Why did you ask, then?"

"The first thing on my list is going off that high diving board."

"But you can't swim!"

"I know. That's why I need your help." I smiled beatifically at him.

"Hey, Seth!" he called out across the grounds.

I whipped around to see the pool boy coming toward us. I did not want witnesses of my conversations with Jake. I wasn't doing anything wrong, but what if the pool boy reported on me to Edward? "Jake, I don't know about him," I started.

"Nah, he's cool. He and I go way back. Don't worry, Bella." Jake was waving his friend over.

Seth trotted over, his eyes darting between me and Jake, and finally down to my engagement ring. Jake and I needed to have a talk. A serious talk about keeping secrets and being discreet.

"Seth, you have got to try one of these cookies Bella made." Jake thrust a cookie toward Seth, and Seth hesitated.

"You know what Edward said," Seth spoke to Jake as though I wasn't there. My blush intensified.

"You're such a lapdog sometimes. Bella is cool. Just eat the damn cookie."

Seth hesitantly took a cookie and bit down into it. After the first bite, he smiled at me. "You made these?"

I nodded. "Uh huh."

"These are great."

"Told you," Jake said smugly.

I rolled my eyes at Jake and then said to Seth, "Thanks."

"Is the water in the pool warm today?"

Seth polished off the rest of his cookie. "Edward likes it at 85 degrees. So yes, it's warm."

"Do you have to keep saying his name?" Jake hissed.

"It's _Edward's_ pool."

Jake ignored that, and instead looked at me. "What do you think, Bella?"

"You want to do it today?"

"Why not? It will be an easy way to get started on your list. A confidence builder, if you will."

"But I can't swim," I said stupidly.

"We'll jump together. I won't let you drown."

Seth's forehead crinkled in worry. "Jake, whatever you're planning, don't you think it's a bad idea to take Edward's fiancée into the pool if she can't swim?"

"You worry more than my grandma," Jake growled. "And besides, Bella needs this. She's had a hard time lately and she needs a chance to build some fun memories."

"Maybe she should be building them with Edward," Seth said pointedly.

Jake and Seth shared a long look, and I cleared my throat in an attempt to alleviate some of the tension. "Don't worry, Seth. I know Edward would want me to have some fun while he's gone." It was true. Granted, the fun he would want me to have would not include Jake… but hadn't he told me to try out the pool?

Seth looked unconvinced, but he did eat another cookie, which I took as a good sign.

Neither Jake nor I had swim suits, so I settled for a t-shirt and shorts. Jake kicked off his shoes and stripped off his shirt.

Jake did a "test" dive to make sure the water was okay. I knew he was showing off, but it was impressive anyway. His body entered the water in a clean line with little splash, which was far more than I hoped to accomplish for my upcoming jump off the diving board. I only wanted to make it in without hitting the water wrong.

Jake hoisted himself out of the pool, and walked toward me. He was dripping wet, and I tried not to let my eyes follow the rivulets of water that traveled down his bare chest.

"Ready, Bella? You climb up first, and then I'll follow. Once we're both up there, I'll count to three and then we'll jump."

"Should I hold my nose?"

"Only if you're not smart enough to breathe out as you hit the water."

In that case, yes, I would hold my nose. "Is there a good way to jump?"

"You realize it's only 3 meters high, right? As long as you don't jump flat on your back, you'll be fine."

He was right. The diving board wasn't that high. I could do this.

I stepped out of my flip-flops and gingerly walked over to the pool, careful to avoid the puddles created by Jake when he exited the pool. With my luck, I would probably slip and fall on the tile before I even made it up to the diving board.

I climbed the steps slowly, one at a time. I put one foot on the diving board and stepped up. Standing on the diving board, I looked around. This wasn't so bad. I didn't know what had possessed me to compare this to jumping off a cliff. It was more like jumping off a boulder.

At the end of the diving board, I looked down. Big mistake. Three meters had never seemed so high. Three meters was only about ten feet. And I was more than five feet tall, so the diving board was less than two of me high. It wasn't high at all, and yet, I was suddenly less keen on jumping.

The diving board suddenly started to move, and I held out my arms to keep my balance. I shot an alarmed look over my shoulder, and realized it was Jake, joining me on the springboard. Too bad he moved like a herd of elephants.

Several terrifying moments of board-shaking movement later, I felt Jake's cold wet hands on my waist. I shivered.

Jake leaned in toward me and spoke directly into my ear. "Remember, hold your nose, keep your body straight. I won't let you go, so don't panic when you hit the water. We jump on the count of three."

I nodded, too scared to trust my voice.

"One."

I almost told him I changed my mind. I didn't have anything to prove.

"Two."

Images of the Volturi flickered through my brain: Aro, Caius, Marcus, Demetri, Jane, Alec… Fear of them mingled with my fear of jumping, and I felt physically ill.

"Three."

I didn't want to be afraid anymore. I jumped.

True to his word, Jacob wrapped his arms around my waist as I jumped, and he didn't let go, even when we hit the water.

I forgot to hold my nose, and I came to the surface sputtering in Jake's arms. We bobbed up and down in the water as his legs moved in a steady rhythm beneath us, keeping us afloat in the deep water.

Jake swam me to the pool ladder and I climbed out on shaky legs.

"You okay, Bells?"

Safe on warm tile with a towel wrapped around me, I smiled.

"I am okay."

**Thursday, April 10, 2008 **

I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow on Wednesday night, but the sleep was terrifying and not restful at all. I couldn't remember any of the scary dreams in the morning. The dream that I remembered the most was the one where I could hear that mean, frizzy-haired woman from the charity gala in my head, cackling about me dying a virgin.

I hated her. I hoped that wine permanently stained her dress.

I threw on a robe, trudged down the stairs, and parked myself on a stool at the kitchen bar. There on the counter, under a pencil, was my too-short list of things to do before the trial, scrawled in my messy script.

I picked up the pencil. Was losing my virginity a stupid thing to put on my wish list?

_Yes._

_Maybe not._

Jake had said he would help me with my list. He'd already jumped with me off the high diving board into the pool. I had a feeling he wouldn't mind helping me with my virginity problem. And our little experience in the pool together had shown me something about him.

He had a rocking bod. Like smoking hot.

A girl would have to be dead not to notice.

I winced at my own poor choice of words. I wasn't dead yet. There was still time for me.

I decided not to write it on the list. There was something sketchy about putting it down on paper, where anyone could see it. Not very many people knew I was saving myself for marriage. My parents had known, once upon a time, when they were alive. Angela knew, but I would probably never see her again. Emmett knew, because I told him the night we got drunk together after we almost died. We never talked about that night, though, and we were so drunk I wasn't even sure he remembered our conversation.

Thoughts of Emmett brought a smile to my lips, but the smile faded when I forced myself to think of him with Rosalie. Emmett was not going to make passionate love to me the night before the trial. He would never betray his family that way, and of course that was one of the things I admired about him.

Jake arrived for the day, and I let him in.

His beaming smile decided me. I could do much, much worse than lose my virginity to Jake. If I lived through this whole trial experience and somehow did manage to find my Prince Charming, I might regret not having saved myself for marriage, but at least I'd be alive to regret it. And in some twisted kind of way, the logic worked out. With my luck, I _would_ live to regret it. And I would much rather live to regret something like sex with Jake than die because the Volturi killed me.

On some level I knew I wasn't making sense, but I didn't care. I needed something to cling to, because I could not go on indefinitely without food or sleep.

Jake saw the list in my hand, and asked, "What's on the list for today?"

Today? No, we wouldn't do it today. I wasn't quite ready. But if I was set on this plan, we needed to do it before Edward came home on Sunday, because this was not something I wanted to explain to him. So Saturday would be the day.

But what if I enjoyed the sex and wanted to do it again? Friday, then. That way if things went well, we would still have Saturday together before Edward was home. It was weird to think about doing things when Edward wasn't here. It made it seem like I was cheating on him, but I _wasn't. _So why did it feel like I was?

"Bells?"

"Sorry Jake, just thinking." I forced out thoughts of Edward. It wasn't cheating. Edward would only care if people found out. We would be discreet, so it would be fine.

"For today, I thought we'd hit item #2 on the list, but I wanted to talk to you about tomorrow…"

**Friday, April 11, 2008 **

**Alice**

I hummed merrily all the way to Edward's house. My tiny trunk was filled with baby purchases, and the only thing missing was someone to admire my shopping prowess. Normally, Jasper could be relied on for times such as these, but he did this thing called _work_ during the day.

I know. I've never understood it either.

I wasn't without responsibilities and duties, but most of them revolved around making appearances on behalf of my family's charitable foundation and cogitating on my fledgling fashion line. The appearances happened at night, usually, though sometimes in the afternoon. The cogitations about fashion occurred anywhere, anytime. They weren't constrained by a pedestrian concept like _business hours_. I tried to explain this to Jasper, but he was hung up on the idea of business transactions happening at a set time, mainly between 8:00 A.M. and 6:00 P.M.

I wasn't too upset with him today, though, because I was going to visit Bella. Edward had been gone for way too long, and I was sure by now she was practically climbing the walls. I'd seen her several times over the last couple of weeks, and she definitely appreciated company.

We were starting to become close, like sisters should be, and it made me happy to know little Joshua Carlisle was going to have such a sweet aunt. That warm feeling grew even warmer when I thought about how maybe I would be an aunt again in the not-too-far-off future. Edward could be so cold with adults, but he loved children. Edward and Bella would have beautiful babies.

I pulled into the driveway with a flourish and dashed up to the door.

Okay, I didn't really dash, because I was seven months pregnant, but 'dashed' sounded much better than 'waddled.'

I knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

I rang the doorbell, but there was no answer.

I peeked in the garage and counted. All four cars were accounted for.

Bella was probably napping. Or showering. Or something.

What could she be doing at three in the afternoon?

An inkling of worry crawled into my stomach. Maybe she was sick again. Or, more likely, maybe she was hurt. She was awfully clumsy. Goodness, Edward would never forgive me if she were injured and needed help and none of us even noticed.

I whipped out my handy-dandy key and let myself in. I turned off the alarm with practiced ease and took the stairs two at a time up to Bella and Edward's bedroom.

…

…

…

I made it as far as the guest room.

The guest room door was half-way open, and through it I saw Bella getting hot and heavy with the gardener.

The gardener!

How could she? That ungrateful slut! After all the love and time I put into sexing her up, she was wasting it on the gardener?

Edward was going to have a shit fit.

Should I tell Edward? He acts cold, but inside he's warm and gooey. He would be devastated. What if I didn't tell Edward and he married her anyway? That could be a disaster of epic proportions, both emotionally and financially. Yes, I would have to tell Edward.

They still hadn't seen me. Gardener was sliding his hands up Bella's shirt, working on second base.

Should I stop them or should I see how far Bella was going to go? For all I knew, Bella had been sleeping with him every day since Edward left, but something told me this was the first time. If it truly was a one-time occurrence, maybe Edward would forgive her if she didn't go all the way, though at this point I wasn't sure if I wanted him to.

I cleared my throat.

He didn't hear me, but she did.

Her eyes flew open and met mine.

"Alice!"

I crossed my arms over my chest and rested them on my belly. I had some choice words I wanted to share with Bella, but I knew Joshua Carlisle could hear me with his perfectly formed little ears so I kept my mouth closed.

Gardener finally noticed me. He stepped away from Bella, but he did not look chagrinned at all. If I hadn't worried that Edward coming home to dead flowers would add insult to the injury of Bella hitting it with his gardener, I would have fired him there on the spot.

Bella pushed Gardener away and straightened her shirt. "This isn't what you think."

I arched an eyebrow, as I continued to keep my tongue in check. Oh, the things I wanted to say to her… but I had to keep little J.C. innocent as long as possible.

Bella glanced back at Gardener and then at me, "Well, maybe it is what you think, but I can explain."

That last little sentence of hers made me even angrier, and I struggled to master my temper. I did not want to transmit stress or anger to the baby, so I decided to keep this as short as possible. "Save it for Edward."

"Alice…"

"Don't even start. I don't want to hear it."

Bella swallowed, her eyes wide and scared. She should be scared. I'd been on the receiving end of Edward's temper before, and it was not pretty. I almost felt sorry for her.

But not really.

I was feeling pretty damn betrayed that someone I thought was going to be my sister was a two-timing slut. And I could only imagine how Edward was going to feel.

"I'm leaving now. But you should know that I am calling Edward to tell him all about this little incident. I think it would be best if you and I didn't see or talk to each other for a long time." I didn't stay to see the look on Bella's face.

I walked down the steps and out to my car and drove home, my finger twitching on my phone.


	8. April 13 to April 14, 2008

**Author's Note: **I want to remind everyone that this story is rated M for mature themes. If that isn't your cup of tea, now is a good time to exit the story.

Great big thanks to movieandbookgirl for her feedback on more than one version of this chapter. This chapter is better because of her.

**Chapter 8**

** Sunday, April 13, 2008**

**Bella**

I had been reloading the Delta flight arrival page every minute for the last twenty minutes. Edward's plane had finally touched down, a mere five minutes late. That meant I would see him in less than an hour.

To say that I was dreading our confrontation was an understatement. The guilt was overwhelming. I didn't feel guilty for making out with Jacob. The guilt was because Alice caught me. Edward had done nothing but be good to me, and now I was an embarrassment.

About the time I thought he should arrive, I sat down on the sofa in the living room and waited. It wasn't long before the bell indicated someone had buzzed in the gate. Then I heard him enter the house from the garage.

I stood to greet him.

Edward glared at me from across the room, his suitcase and briefcase on the floor beside him.

"What the hell were you thinking?" His voice projected forcefully across the foyer.

I was glued to the floor where I stood, too upset to move, even though he was striding toward me at an alarming rate. Two fierce spots of color burned on his cheeks. I had never seen him so livid.

When Edward reached me, he grabbed my shoulders and shook me. It didn't hurt, exactly, but it made me nervous. His green eyes flashed as he snarled at me, "How dare you fuck around with the gardener in front of my sister."

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice small and timid as I tried to recoil from him.

Edward shook me one more time, and I pulled away from him. His temper was scaring me. He must have seen something in my face, because as I stepped back, he let go of my shoulders. I stumbled a bit at the change. He drew in a deep breath, and I realized he was trying to master his temper. I took another step back from him; rage was rolling off him in waves.

"I didn't know Alice was there." The words were tumbling from my mouth before I could stop them.

"You think that makes it better? All I've asked of you is to keep away from scandal. That's it. Why couldn't you do that one fucking thing for me?"

I bristled. "We're not engaged. You made that quite clear to me when we went to the gala. I was being discreet. I can't help it if your sister-"

"Leave my sister out of this." He stepped forward, close enough to grab me by the shoulders again if he chose to.

I watched him warily. "Fine. It was an accident."

"It was an accident you were half-naked in your bedroom in my house with the gardener?"

"Damn it, Edward," I snapped. "At least I wasn't kissing him in the middle of a crowded ballroom in public while you sat on the sidelines listening to people gossip about you."

"That's what this is about? You wanted to get even with me because I kissed Tanya?" Edward's eyes narrowed. "I expected better of you."

"It had nothing to do with you kissing someone else." Frustration caused my voice to break. "I just needed some company."

"I can get you a dog," Edward said flatly.

"I knew you wouldn't understand." I whirled to leave.

Edward's hand seized my arm like a vise. "We aren't finished."

"Yes we are." I twisted, trying to release myself from his strong grip. He was going to leave a bruise, I was sure.

"We're not. Do you have any idea the position you put me in?"

"Did Alice tell anyone besides you?" My voice was a whisper. This was the question I had dreaded to ask but needed to know the answer to.

"Only the whole family."

"I'm so sorry." And I was. I had known Alice would tell Edward, but I didn't think she would tell anyone else. I'd spent the entire weekend wallowing in a mixture that was two parts guilt and one part self-righteousness, and this new bit of information increased the concentration of guilt. I felt physically ill.

"Sorry doesn't fix it." He was still furious, but he wasn't yelling anymore.

My stomach twisted into knots and I felt tears welling in my eyes. "I thought…"

"You thought what? This ought to be good." His voice still had a cruel edge to it, and that was enough to make the tears fall.

"I just didn't want to die a virgin."

Edward stared at me, disbelieving. Clearly, whatever he had expected me to say, that was not it.

I sniffled, not wanting my nose to run in front of him. "Don't look at me like that. I know it's less common for girls to save themselves for marriage, but it's not astonishing."

"Bella," Edward said, his voice softening some. Whether it was from my words or my tears, I wasn't sure, but I was relieved he sounded more like himself. "First, you're not going to die. Emmett has never lost a witness."

"Yeah, well, he never had a witness as cursed as me before, either."

Edward continued on as though I hadn't spoken. "Second, while I concede that no one wants to die a virgin, my gardener is an exceedingly poor choice."

"He has a name, you know. And he understands me."

"Wait, you told him about our situation?" Anger flared again on Edward's face.

"I trust him."

"I don't."

"Well it's a good thing it's my secret, then, and not yours."

"You're wearing my ring, damn it," he growled. "It's not just your secret. And did it occur to you that telling him might put everyone in danger?"

"I needed someone to talk to, and he was here." I was defensive, but only because I hadn't considered that I was putting anyone in danger other than myself.

"You could have talked to me."

"You were in Haiti."

"I have a phone. You have the number."

"I didn't want to impose."

"So instead you poured your heart out to my college kid gardener, who offered to do you the favor of taking away your virginity?" Edward snorted. "Yes, Bella, that's _much_ better."

I glared at him. "We're not engaged, remember? It wasn't fundamentally wrong."

"Are you truly so concerned with dying that you won't be happy unless you have sex?"

"I saw an opportunity, and I was going to take it."

"More like he saw an opportunity," Edward muttered. I didn't know if I was supposed to hear that or not, but he was standing so close to me that I would have heard the faintest whisper.

"Obviously, I wouldn't have done anything if I had known Alice was watching, but I'm not going to apologize for wanting—"

Edward cut me off. "Is it just sex itself, or is the gardener in particular?"

"What do you mean?"

"What is the draw? Assuming you live, wouldn't you regret it?"

I flushed. "Well, I was kind of thinking of it as insurance."

Edward stared at me, waiting for me to continue.

"Like maybe if I had sex, it would insure I lived to regret it."

Edward blinked twice before responding. For a minute I thought he was going to laugh at me, but he didn't. "Your logic defies description. You do realize that is utterly absurd, right?"

"And you wonder why I didn't confide in you." Now that my heart had stopped hammering from Edward yelling at me, the guilt was back. I saw Edward run a hand through his hair; he looked tired. I realized he was probably jet-lagged from the flight. The current situation probably wasn't helping matters.

"You're truly committed to this ridiculous idea that if you do something you would live to regret, it will tip the scales so that you'll actually live to regret it?"

I looked away, unable to say that I agreed aloud, but unable to deny it. I knew it was irrational, but I was scared. And if doing something stupid would keep me from dying, I was all for it. And if I did die, well, I hadn't wanted to die a virgin anyway. Lost in my thoughts as I was, Edward's next words caught me completely off guard.

"If I offer to have sex with you, will you promise to stay away from him?"

"He's my friend," I said, focusing on the second half of Edward's question, rather than the first half.

"Will you tell him then, that you only want to be platonic friends?" he pressed.

"What makes you think I would want to sleep with you?"

His green eyes flashed again in the dim light, but this time it wasn't anger. "Let's just say that since you've waited this long, I don't want you to throw away your first time on some over-eager kid."

My stomach flipped a somersault, and I swallowed hard. Jake _was_ young. I hadn't realized how I had been counting on that to give me the upper hand. When I had pictured Jake and me together, it was me calling the shots. I had a feeling that if I went with Edward instead, it would be a completely different experience.

I realized Edward was waiting for an answer. I bit my lip. "I'll think about it, okay?"

He smirked.

As I walked up the stairs and to my room, I could feel the weight of his eyes on me. I tried not to think about what just happened downstairs, but who was I kidding? How could I not think about it? Edward was so far out of my league I'd never let myself think of him that way before, and suddenly I had permission to think about what was under his clothes.

I picked a book off the bookshelf at random and started to read it. I had to do something to forcibly take my mind off daydreaming about Edward's body, or I would go crazy. I read for two hours, thoroughly losing myself in the pages of, well, some book or other. It could have been any book, I really don't remember.

There was a knock at the door, and after a few seconds, Edward poked his head in. He was wearing shorts, a t-shirt, and sneakers. His t-shirt was damp with sweat, and it clung to his lean, muscled chest. He had a towel slung casually around his neck. His bronze hair was tousled and stray pieces of it clung to his forehead. I'd spent two hours trying to forget about him, and this was how he showed up at my door?

"Bella, the roast will be ready in a few minutes. Can you pull it out of the oven to rest when the timer goes off while I grab a shower?"

"Um," I said. Coherent speech was too much to ask for at this point.

"Thanks," he said, and flashed me a crooked grin. Yes, I confess, my eyes were glued to his ass as he trotted off to his room.

I closed the door behind him, though I knew I would just have to open it again or I wouldn't hear the timer for the roast. I leaned back against the door and tried to breathe and slow down my thudding heart.

Edward didn't cook. I knew this about him. I was the one who put the roast in the refrigerator, ready for the oven. I had prepped the roast this afternoon for something to do, because I was so antsy about what would happen when he came home. He must have seen it and decided to put it in. Until this point, I hadn't even been aware that he knew how to use his own oven.

When I was sufficiently calm, I opened my bedroom door. The timer was already going off. I went downstairs and set the roast out to rest, like Edward had asked me to. And then, because I'm me, I threw together a salad and made a quick rice pilaf with yesterday's leftover rice. I even pulled a bottle of wine from Edward's cellar because I needed a drink, even if wine wasn't my preferred choice for imbibing.

As I went to set things on the table, Edward was already seated in the dining room, his hair still damp from his shower. When I brushed by him from behind to set the salad and the wine on the table, I could smell the soap he used. The soap he used when he was naked, in the shower.

I needed to stop thinking about him naked.

I couldn't. I was inflamed with curiosity, and maybe a little of something else as well.

As I set the wine down, Edward stood suddenly, his body inches from mine.

I meant to ask him what he was doing, but all that came out of my mouth was a squeak.

"You forgot the wine glasses," he said by way of explanation, but he lingered near me longer than was necessary. He stepped away briefly and returned with two glasses. I hustled to the other side of the table and sat down; I wanted as much distance between us as possible.

I picked up the corkscrew and moved to open the wine, but Edward laid his hand over mine.

"Let me," he said.

"I can open a bottle of wine, you know." My voice was sharper than I intended.

"How did you come to select this particular wine to go with dinner?"

He had me there. I had picked it by walking down into the wine cellar and looking around for something red. I tried to find something that sounded normal, but all the wine in Edward's cellar had names I'd never heard of.

"That's what I thought," he murmured in response to my silence. "I've been aging this one for seven years, Bella. It needs to be opened gently." I watched as he peeled back the foil from the neck of the bottle and then inserted the corkscrew with practiced ease. As he drew up the cork, he paused before drawing it all the way out. His nimble fingers worked the cork carefully, before removing it noiselessly and then placing it on the table.

Never had I envisioned that watching a man open a bottle of wine would turn me on.

"If you don't take out the cork correctly, it will make a popping sound and surprise the wine."

"Ah," was my oh-so-intelligent reply. My face wore a perma-blush, and I was hoping he hadn't noticed. The light in the dining room was rather dim, so it was a possibility it would go undetected.

Dinner conversation was mundane, as we danced around mentioning anything of consequence. Edward didn't address his earlier offer, and I was sure he wouldn't unless I brought it up.

I wasn't going to bring it up. I was blushing from watching him open a bottle of wine. How embarrassing would it be to admit I was thinking about asking him to deflower me? Somehow that conversation had been a lot easier to have with Jake.

I tried to think of topics of conversation to discuss that did not involve sex, but I was pretty sure Edward was still irritated with me about the Jake thing. I was a naturally non-confrontational person, but if he gave me a hard time about it, I didn't think I would be able to keep quiet.

Edward was a hypocrite. It was okay for him to dance and flirt and do who-knows-what with someone else _in public_, but it was not okay for me to neck with the gardener in the privacy of his home? How was I supposed to know that Alice would be nosy? And if he was going to go that far, we might as well share his bedroom, because surely the housekeeper had noticed that we slept in different rooms.

The thought of us in the same bedroom brought a rush of fantasies that I tried unsuccessfully to suppress, and I'm sure I wore a glazed expression for most of dinner. It wasn't until I heard the words "start looking for a new gardener" come out of Edward's mouth that I was suddenly alert.

"Did you just say you're going to fire Jake?"

Edward met my gaze coolly. "I already did."

"Why? He's a fantastic gardener." I wasn't an expert on gardening, but the house grounds were beautiful.

Edward's eyes narrowed. "I suppose. But he can't follow instructions worth a damn."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I told him to stay away from you."

"He did. Did you consider maybe I didn't stay away from him."

"Bella," Edward said, his voice heavy with warning.

"Edward," I mimicked his tone. "That's completely unfair."

"I'm not going to re-hire him so that you can pick up with him where you left off."

"No, you're going to rehire him because he's a good gardener."

"Nice try, but no. I'd need a better reason than that."

"I told him about me, about us. I don't think he'll tell anyone, but I don't want to give him an incentive to, either." I held my breath, hoping I had stumbled upon a good enough reason for Edward to give Jake another chance. I had enough on my conscience without feeling bad for having my one friend here fired.

"If I hire him back, will you promise to stay away from him?"

"He's my friend, I can't promise that." I dropped my gaze to the table. "Please, Edward. He's the only friend I have right now."

Edward's face was inscrutable for several seconds. "Will you promise to keep things strictly platonic with him?"

"I already did," I huffed.

"You didn't, actually." A slow smile curved across Edward's lips. "Unless by your statement you mean that you decided to accept my earlier offer."

I must have gone redder than a strawberry. "I, um, was considering it."

"Considering it seriously, were you?"

Even my ears were burning; I was glad my hair covered them. I studiously avoided his eyes. "Maybe I was."

**Edward**

Somewhere along the way, in trying to do right by Bella, I'd fucked up.

I was attracted to her. I couldn't deny it.

She was living in my house, sleeping in a bedroom down the hall from me.

She hadn't given any indication that she was attracted to me, but I was reasonably confident that if I pushed things, we could have a physical relationship. I'd never been turned down by a woman before, and that string was unlikely to be broken by a naïve twenty-four-year old.

Unfortunately, there was a good reason for staying away from Bella. If things didn't work out between us—and honestly, I wasn't known for having a long attention span with the fairer sex—how awkward would it be for us to continue the charade of being engaged? Emmett was also a consideration. He'd made it quite clear that he did not want me anywhere near Bella, though he hadn't shared his reasoning with me.

And so, that night of the charity gala, I had tried to redirect my energy to Tanya. Tanya and I had overlapping circles of influence. We'd known each other for years. We had a history of sporadic dating and pretty good sex. Tanya was safe; she wouldn't expect a commitment for me, she lived in the moment. I didn't mean for the kiss to happen in the middle of the dance floor while Bella was watching. I certainly didn't enjoy the wounded look on Bella's face, but I knew it would make it easier to stay away from Bella by default if she avoided me because of what she saw.

Bella did more than avoid me. She essentially stopped talking to me after the gala. She even pretended to be sick to miss spending time with my parents. I should have talked to her, should have explained, but instead I went to Haiti thinking there would be plenty of time to settle things when I came home.

Then, last Friday, after I finished up my obligations for the day, I found four phone messages waiting for me. One from Alice. One from my mother. One from Rosalie. One from Jasper. Before I could listen to any of them, Emmett called.

Emmett recounted Alice's story for me.

To say I was furious would be a severe understatement.

Emmett was angry, too, but he was angrier with Alice for spying on Bella than he was with Bella for making out with Jacob. He was also angry with me, because he thought I was going to throw Bella out.

I wanted to throw her out.

I was close to it.

It was bad enough that she was torturing me by sleeping down the hall, but then she had to go and humiliate me by almost banging the gardener in front of my sister. It was intolerable.

I couldn't throw her out. Where would she go? My personal feelings aside, it was important that she be somewhere safe, and being with me was safe.

Emmett ranted for a while about having to postpone his vacation with Rosalie yet again until he was sure Bella and I could get along. I assured him I wasn't going to throw her out, but he was worried she might run away. He wanted to be available in case she needed him, and I found that annoying. Emmett was a bit of a control freak. He needed to learn when to let go.

After I listened to the phone messages from my family, my anger reached a fever pitch. It wasn't enough for Alice to call and tell me out of a sense of family loyalty. No. She had to tell the _whole family_ because she was worried about how I would take the news.

By the time my flight touched down on Sunday, I was ready to pulverize the next person who crossed my path.

I drove home at lightning speed, cornering harder than necessary and speeding down the straight-aways. It was a good thing that no cop caught me speeding. With the mood I was in, I would have ended up in a high speed chase on the evening news.

Part of me hoped she wouldn't be home when I got there. Part of me thought she'd better be there.

She was waiting for me.

She was angry with me too, still angry about Tanya. That was ridiculous, because my doing anything with Tanya didn't damage Bella's reputation. She didn't have a reputation. _Bella_ didn't technically exist. When all this was over, she could go back home and be whoever she really was, but I would still be me. I would have to live with the consequences of her actions.

She started to cry, and then she told me all about the convoluted chain of logic that led her to Jacob's arms.

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them: "If I offer to have sex with you, will you promise to stay away from him?"

I could not take them back.

I wouldn't take them back.

I could only endure so much. Telling my family Bella's secret wasn't an option. Kicking Bella out wasn't an option. My family was going to think I was a lovesick fool. If I was going to endure my family's erroneous judgment of the situation, I damn well wanted to get something out of it. And I would feel a whole lot saner if I could have sex with Bella and get her out of my mind. If we could do it just once, she would lose the appeal of being forbidden, I could stop thinking about her obsessively, and we could go on with our 'engaged' charade.

I knew as soon as I saw her eyes widen that she was going to accept my offer, it was only a matter of when.

At that moment, I hated myself. Who the hell would take advantage of a scared girl isolated from everyone who loved her?

Apparently me. I was no better than Jacob.

I knew it was wrong. I knew I should recant my offer. I knew I should go and buy her a cute little puppy or something to keep her company in the house. I should take her somewhere calming where we could talk about her feelings and make life here better for her so she wasn't so fragile. I was too selfish to do any of those things, and I was still furious with her besides.

When she asked me to re-hire the gardener, I almost snapped.

I'd never disliked Jacob, per se, but I'd never been overly fond of him. He was a brash and egotistical kid who thought he knew better than I did. I'd hired him mostly because Seth recommended him. The idea of re-hiring him was abhorrent, especially given what I was sure Alice would say to me about it.

I tried to extract a promise from Bella that she would stay away from him, but she looked down at the table and said in a small, quavering voice, "He's my friend, I can't promise that. Please, Edward. He's the only friend I have right now."

I looked at her, really looked at her, for the first time since I had come home. Her brown locks hung limp around her face. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. Her cheek bones were too prominent, as though she had lost weight. She was unnaturally pale. She looked as though she would break at the mere touch of my hand.

_What happened to her while I was gone?_ It was a question that would have to wait for another time. A time when I could look at her without being irritated about the whole ridiculous situation.

Once I realized how broken she was, I would have hired back Jacob regardless, but I wanted to extract her promise that we wouldn't have a repeat of the Alice incident from Friday.

When she huffed at me that she'd already promised, I realized that in her head she'd already accepted my offer. She realized it too, and her pale face was suddenly alive and suffused with a becoming red blush.

God help me. Broken or not, furious with her as I was, I wanted her.

We ate the rest of our meal in silence. Bella went straight upstairs after dinner, and I didn't follow her.

**Monday, April 14, 2008**

I looked up from my morning coffee and watched her come down the stairs. I'd slept little the night before, as I wrestled with my conscience about how best to handle Bella.

She was dressed in blue jeans and a light sweater. She appeared better rested this morning, and her step had a bit more spring. Perhaps she wasn't as broken as she'd appeared last night. That thought cheered me.

"Good morning," I said.

Bella shot me a tentative little smile and then blushed.

I took a sip of my coffee to hide my smile. Her thoughts were all over her face. Of course things would be awkward between us given the ridiculous offer I made last night.

"About last night," I started.

"Yes," she said, sounding quite sure of herself.

"What?"

"I thought about it, and this is something I want to do, and there was no special reason I chose Jake."

"Bella," I started again.

She frowned. "Are you taking back your offer?"

"Sit down."

She sat, her eyes regarding me suspiciously.

"Living like you're going to die is no way to live. You've waited all this time, and you'll be happier if you wait until you can share it with someone you love."

She didn't answer, and I wasn't sure what she was thinking, so I added hastily, "And not with the gardener."

"Then find me someone else and somewhere private where your sister won't come barging in."

I choked a little at that.

She looked me directly in the eye. "It wasn't my most rational decision, but it wasn't a hasty one, either."

No.

At great personal sacrifice, I'd decided to do the right thing, and my reward was to find Bella someone else so that _he_ could take advantage of her?

Fuck, no.

I tried again. "I'm only keeping your best interest in mind, Bella."

"You have no clue what I've been going through," her voice broke.

"How could I? You don't talk to me. Apparently you only talk to the gardener."

"Does your offer stand, or not?"

I hesitated. "It does."

I was suffused with a heady combination of excitement and self-loathing. I was going to hell for this, of that I was certain. And then, because I was still angry with her, I added, "It stands, provided you can win Alice's forgiveness. If I have to take one more pity phone call from her, I will hurt someone."

Bella blinked, and I could see her processing my demand. "She doesn't want to talk to me again."

"I don't care how you do it or what you say, but make peace with her. My pregnant sister shouldn't be under this kind of stress." Based on the calls I'd been receiving from Alice, cows would fly before she forgave Bella. I knew that. Bella probably knew that. But I felt like I could let go of some of my anger about the whole situation if Bella would at least give it an honest effort.

"If I make up with Alice, then you'll…" her voice trailed off.

"Yes."

We didn't say anything more, but the air between us charged with electricity.


	9. April 15 to April 18, 2008

**Author's Note:**

Thanks to movieandbookgirl, as ever, for turning this chapter around at lightning speed and being all-around supportive.

**Chapter 9**

**Tuesday, April 15, 2008**

I went downstairs Tuesday morning to find a note from Edward telling me to expect a delivery sometime during the morning. He said I didn't have to do anything with it, the maid would put it away, but I could have whatever I wanted.

Sure enough, around 10AM, the intercom buzzed.

The delivery was, well, surprising.

It was groceries.

Bags and bags of food.

It had indeed seemed odd when I arrived here that Edward's pantry was empty, save for a jar of olives, and that his refrigerator was no better. I'd adjusted. I had even put a few things in the pantry and stocked his spice rack.

But this, this was odd. There was enough food to feed an army.

I called him to ask about it, but I got his voicemail. The situation wasn't urgent, so I didn't leave a message.

Five minutes later, the phone rang. The Caller ID revealed it was Edward.

"Bella?" Edward sounded breathless. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"Why didn't you leave a message?"

"It wasn't a big deal. I was calling to say your delivery arrived."

There was a pause. "Please leave a message next time. I was worried."

"You said I could call you."

"But you never have. I assumed the worst."

"If the worst happened, I doubt I'd be able to call you." He didn't answer, so I continued, "Are you planning to have a party or something? Why did you order so much food?"

"I thought the house should be better stocked, especially since someone is there most of the time now."

"This food is for me? I barely eat anything!"

"You should eat more," he said.

I giggled in spite of myself. "Yes, Dad."

"Please don't ever call me 'Dad' again." Edward sounded annoyed.

"Noted," I said, still grinning into the phone like an idiot.

"Listen, I have a business dinner to go to tonight. I probably won't be home until after you're asleep. So I'll see you tomorrow."

"Oh, okay." I tried to keep the disappointment out of my voice.

**Wednesday, April 16, 2008**

Edward was gone before I went downstairs for breakfast. I wondered if he'd even come home the night before, but then I saw the day's newspaper half-read on the bar next to a cup of cold coffee.

He called and told me he had another business dinner tonight and not to wait up for him.

He was still angry with me. He had to be. I wanted to be angry back at him, but instead I was on the verge of tears because he didn't want to see me. Was he sorry he offered to sleep with me? Was he repulsed by me? Why would he be avoiding me?

**Thursday, April 17, 2008**

Since Edward missed dinner two nights running, I wasn't surprised when I saw a note on the bar in the kitchen telling me he wouldn't be home until late. Again. I sighed. I wasn't imagining things; he was definitely avoiding me.

I needed to make things right with Alice, and fast.

I'd called her six times since Monday, but she was not taking my calls, not on her home phone, not on her cell phone. Once I discovered that Edward's Mercedes had GPS, I drove by her house twice daily. It was like she was psychic—she was never home whenever I visited.

I eventually got desperate enough to try calling Jasper, but he wasn't taking my calls either, probably at Alice's insistence.

Making things right with Alice was going to be impossible. Edward had been emphatic I make peace with her, but how could I make that happen if she wouldn't talk to me?

The whole situation was a disaster. I wanted to be mad at Alice for spying on me and telling the whole family, but how could I? She thought she was protecting her big brother. I wanted to be mad at Edward for so many reasons, but every time I tried, I would remember the way his damp shirt clung to his chest after his workout the other night. That memory obliterated all coherent thought.

I needed to stop thinking about him that way. It was just sex, something I had lived without quite happily for twenty-four years. Well, not exactly happily, but I'd survived fine without it.

Truly, I hadn't been that upset when Alice burst in on me and Jake. It wasn't that making out with Jake wasn't _fun_, but it wasn't earth-shattering. I'd almost given up on the whole having-sex-before-I-die idea as a half-baked plan, but when Edward offered to step in…

That opened up a whole new realm of heretofore unconsidered possibilities.

Could I sleep with him? He was distant. He was disinterested. He didn't give a shit about my feelings. He was a hypocrite. But he was magnetic. When he was in the room, it was hard to take my eyes off of him. And when he was near me, I ached to touch him.

Edward had to know how mad Alice was. I hadn't grown up with her, and even I could see that the odds of her forgiving me were slim to none. I had to try, though, and not only for him. I _liked_ Alice. I wanted us to be friends again.

My phone rang.

Hope sprang in my chest as I seized my phone off my bedside table. I glanced at the caller ID, willing it to be Alice. It wasn't. The number was unknown.

"Hello?"

"Bella? This is Rosalie."

"Rosalie?" I repeated like an idiot. I had no idea why Rosalie would be calling me. I didn't even think she liked me.

"I was thinking we could have lunch together today."

"Um."

"Unless you already have plans?"

"Well, no," I wanted to say I was busy, but I was too scared to lie.

"I'll pick you up at noon. Dress nicely, we're going to Chez Pierre."

There was a click, and I realized she had ended the call. It was already 11:30; I had to hustle to be ready. All the clothing I now owned was courtesy of Alice, and I felt a rush of guilt as I looked through my closet, searching for something that she would think was appropriate for a fancy lunch. Everything that wasn't jeans seemed pretty nice, so I settled on something that matched and put on the most expensive black heels in the closet.

A little after 12:00, a red BMW sped up the driveway and screeched to a stop in front of the door.

I didn't want Rosalie to have to wait, so I scampered out of the house and down to her car. The passenger side window was open when I reached the car.

"Climb in," she said.

With some trepidation, I opened the door and slid into the black leather seat.

"Hi," I said cautiously.

Rosalie's answer was to floor the gas pedal. I leaned back in my seat and tried not to think how ironic it would be if, after all Emmett's efforts to keep me safe, I died in a wreck courtesy of his speed demon wife.

We arrived at the restaurant, a fancy-schmancy, ladies-who-lunch type of place, and were seated in a corner booth, set away from the rest of the patrons. A waiter brought us menus and set a bottle of cold Perrier on the table.

I watched Rosalie as she perused the menu. I still had no clue why we were here.

"I think the crab quiche sounds appealing, what do you think?" She looked up from the menu and I felt the full force of her icy blue gaze.

"Yes, it sounds lovely," I said, belatedly glancing down at the menu. Half of the words on the menu were in French. I took German in school, so it was gibberish to me. The fancy script was difficult to read, and the prices were almost illegible. If I was reading the prices correctly, this lunch was going to cost as much as a week's groceries cost me back in Chicago. That couldn't be right.

The waiter came to take our order. I selected the crab quiche, because I had no idea what else was on the menu. Rosalie ordered a Cobb salad.

After the bread arrived, I nibbled on a piece, unsure whether to make small talk.

Rosalie regarded me from across the table, and I tried to be bold enough to meet her eyes, but I mostly failed.

"You look nervous. Did Edward cut off your credit card over that whole gardener fiasco or something?" When I didn't answer, she added, "Lunch is on me, of course, since I invited you."

I cringed at the term 'gardener fiasco.' It was more like a disaster than a fiasco, but I wasn't going to correct her.

"I don't care, you know," she said.

That got my attention. "Huh?"

"I'm sure Edward probably did something to deserve it." Rosalie's eyes glinted and she gave a delicate shrug. "The fact that you got back at him means you have more backbone than I thought you did."

"Why would you think he deserved it?" My bread sat on my plate, momentarily forgotten.

"He has the attention span of a gnat with women. You should know that going into your marriage. I'm still stunned he proposed." She took a sip of Perrier. "Besides, if he were going to kick you to the curb, he would have done it by now. And since he didn't, he must have felt you were justified."

"Oh."

"Either that, or he's a fool."

I shifted in my seat. This whole topic of conversation was making me uncomfortable. I hadn't done anything wrong and Edward hadn't done anything wrong, but Rosalie had already invented a sordid past for us in her mind.

Our food arrived, and the waiter deposited it on the table and disappeared.

Rosalie picked up her fork immediately, but I hesitated. My appetite was still iffy, and the uncertainty of not knowing why I was here with Rosalie wasn't helping matters.

I decided to be direct. "Why did you ask me to lunch?"

Rosalie finished chewing a bit of salad and then smiled at me. "Well, I want to thank you, actually."

"You do?"

"I had a visitor yesterday. An _extremely_ distraught Lauren Mallory."

I shook my head. I had no idea who Lauren was.

Rosalie continued with a smirk. "She wanted to assure me that whatever _Edward's fiancée _might have told me about her was completely untrue, and that it was Jessica Stanley who was badmouthing me."

My mouth opened in the form of an "o" as I remembered telling those nasty girls at the charity gala that I would give Rosalie my regards.

"Social-climbing bitches, the both of them. I hate them." Rosalie ate another bite of salad, and then continued, "Thank you for scaring them shitless, and thank you especially for wrecking Jessica's dress."

"Well, I just…"

"I know I wasn't nice to you when you had dinner at the house. But you showed family loyalty by taking on Jessica and Lauren on my behalf, and that means something."

I didn't know what to say; I was more stunned than anything else. I ate some of the quiche to camouflage my confusion. It dissolved on my tongue in a delightful way..

We ate in silence for a few minutes, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Rosalie was pleasant to be with when she didn't pause to shoot me death glares.

"So was the gardener any good?"

I choked. After I recovered, I blushed scarlet. "I wouldn't know. We didn't get that far."

"Being interrupted killed the mood, hmm?" She laughed.

"You could say that." Somehow her attitude made the whole situation seem less dire, and I cracked my first smile of the day.

Then she discomfited me by asking, "Is Edward any good?"

I shot her an incredulous look. Emmett's wife just asked me about what Edward was like in bed. Unbelievable.

Rosalie laughed. "The look on your face says it all. I guess he is."

I blushed again, even fiercer than before, because Rosalie had no idea how very badly I wanted to discover what Edward was like in bed.

"Relax. It's not a crime to be curious." She took another sip of her drink. "Emmett's fantastic. In case you were wondering. He does this thing…"

"Rosalie!" I didn't need or want to imagine the things Emmett and Rosalie did together. Maybe I would have once, for the purpose of torturing myself, but I was over that. I tried to remember the days when I was obsessing over Emmett's perfection, but they were hazy. I ruefully realized that my vision of male physical perfection had morphed into Edward.

"We need to get drunk together. When I come back from Isle Esme. You and me and several bottles of Cristal."

As I took in her friendly smirk, I realized she was thinking we would be sisters someday. And she thought family loyalty was important. And sisters helped each other, right?

"Rosalie, I have a problem I was hoping maybe you could help me with?" My voice was timid and tentative, even to my own ears.

The smirk was replaced by a serious look. "Let me guess, Edward's pissed at you about the gardener and you want advice on how to get back on his good side?"

Damn, she was good. Or at least, she would be good if she had all the facts. I was starting to grasp why Emmett might have married her. "Sort of. Edward and I pretty much made up," I started, taking another bite of quiche as I considered my next words, "but it was conditional on me getting Alice to forgive me."

"He didn't."

I nodded.

Rosalie's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "I don't know that I've ever given Edward proper credit for his vengeful streak, but he definitely has one." She viciously forked a piece of salad. "A man you can seduce, and then all is forgiven. A woman… well, you'll have to grovel way more for Alice's forgiveness than you would for his."

"Alice is beyond upset with me. She won't take any of my calls. She told me she doesn't want to talk to me for a very long time, but I need her to forgive me soon."

Rosalie snorted. "Edward is being a douche. Not that I'm surprised. I'm sure the two of you are equally at fault for your little tiff, but Edward has a superiority complex. Are you sure you want to marry him?"

I gnawed my lower lip, giving the question serious consideration. I barely knew Edward, and we weren't really engaged, but I needed to answer Rose truthfully. If I lied to her, she would know. I wasn't sure if I wanted to marry him, but I was sure I wanted to be on good terms with him again. He'd done so much for me, and if I had to grovel to his sister for forgiveness for a sin that wasn't actually a sin, well, that was a price I was willing to pay.

"Yes," I said finally.

"I do owe you one, so I'll help you. But this is worth more than what you did for me, so when we're through, you'll owe _me_. Are we clear?"

I nodded. "Anything, Rose."

"You're really desperate to get back in his pants, aren't you?"

When my eyes widened, she rolled hers. "That was a rhetorical question."

Rosalie picked up the bill and I thanked her for lunch.

"It was nothing." She made a dismissive gesture with her hand. "Come back to the house with me and we'll figure this bitch out."

Rosalie lived not all that far from Chez Pierre, so the drive was less than ten minutes.

We pulled into the garage and she waved me into the house. It was quiet, a direct contrast to the last time I had visited.

"Where are your daughters?"

"Emma's at preschool, Libby's at school. I'll pick them up in an hour or so."

I nodded and followed Rosalie into the family room. She gestured for me to sit on the couch, and then she stepped into the kitchen and came out holding two glasses.

I took a sip and my mouth puckered. My grandma used lemonade as the drink of choice for chatting. Rosalie used something that was lemony, fizzy, and had some alcohol in it.

"All right, Bella, spill it." Rosalie settled near me in an arm chair. Her shoes were kicked off, her hair was down, and she looked thoroughly comfortable with her feet curled under her.

"I would prefer to drink it, rather than spill it, thanks." I took another tiny sip, mindful that I was a lightweight where alcohol was concerned.

"You know what I mean. Why were you banging the gardener? Get me inside your head."

This had disaster written all over it. I shouldn't be talking to Rosalie. What if I said too much? What if she inferred too much? I felt like I should ask her to take me home, but I didn't. As snarky as she was, this was the most relaxed I'd felt in a long time.

I did not tell Rose my secret, but I told her as many things as I could. I felt a little bit disloyal talking to her about my relationship with Edward, but each time I said something I'd been bottling inside, it felt as though a little bit of weight were lifted off my shoulders. It was a relief to talk to a woman.

Rosalie was quiet as I spoke, asking questions only when she wanted something clarified. I knew I had her full attention. When I was finished, she did something I would not have expected from her.

She hugged me. It felt wonderful.

The moment was broken when the front door banged open.

"Honey, I'm home," said Emmett's booming voice.

Emmett rushed into the living room and then stopped and stared. His eyes flitted from me to Rosalie.

"Bella, what are you doing here?"

Rose arched a delicate eyebrow at him. "Really, Em, is that any way to talk to your future sister-in-law?"

"I'm just, um, surprised to see Bella here."

Rosalie released me and went over to Emmett. She stood on her tip-toes and kissed him on the cheek. "We're just having some girl talk. Nothing to concern yourself with."

"Really." He looked unconvinced and shot me a concerned look.

Rosalie smiled up at him. "Yes. Bella, here, needs some tips on managing your prick of a brother."

Emmett blinked several times rapidly. "You're helping Bella deal with Edward?"

"Of course I am."

Emmett laughed then, long and hard. He put his hands on Rose's waist and lifted her up to kiss her soundly on the mouth. "I love you," he said, nuzzling her neck. "God, how I love you."

I looked away, not wanting to intrude.

"Why are you home early?" Rosalie asked.

"Saturday is the day."

"You better not be shitting me."

"I'm not. This weekend, we go. I borrowed the jet from Dad, made arrangements for the girls, everything."

Rosalie squealed like a teenager and her whole face lit up.

Emmett set Rosalie down and then smiled at both of us. "Don't let me interrupt. And don't worry about the girls. I'll pick them up."

Rose resettled herself in the armchair and smiled at me. "Where were we?" Before I could answer, she answered her own question. "That's right, I was trying to figure out how you were holding on to your sanity."

"It's not that bad," I said quickly.

"Don't be a martyr. You came out of an abusive relationship and got right into a new relationship with someone who has the upper hand on you in every possible way. Of course you're going crazy."

"I wouldn't go that far." _Especially since there never was an abusive relationship_, I added silently to myself.

"Bella," she said. "Bella, Bella. I'm glad you've confided in me. You need way more than help with Alice. You need to even the playing field with Edward."

"I'm never going to be even with Edward, he's completely out of my league," I said, more to myself than to Rosalie.

"Don't be a fool. He may think he's God, but he's only a man."

I didn't want to talk about Edward anymore, so I cut off that line of conversation. "What about Alice?"

Rosalie was quiet for several minutes before speaking. "I love Alice, but there's something you have to understand about her." She paused, and took a drink. "Alice is the baby in a family of over-achievers. Edward is an extreme over-achiever. He's five years older than she is, and she grew up idolizing him."

"She told me she thought of him as a knight in shining armor," I said, agreeing.

"Exactly," Rosalie said. "I can see why she admires him. He helps a lot of people. He's good at almost everything. But he's piss-poor at relationships. She's always turned a blind eye on all his conquests, though. It would never occur to little Alice that maybe, just maybe, her amazing brother might have done something to deserve you banging the gardener."

"Rosalie, please. Please stop saying I banged the gardener. I didn't."

"Sorry, it just has such a nice, cliché ring to it." She licked her lips and then gave me an evil grin. "Besides, you have no idea how much I love the idea of Edward being taken down a peg. He's so full of himself."

"He's not…" I started, but she cut me off.

"Bella, he thought it was okay to kiss Tanya in the middle of a dance floor in front of you and a ton of people he knows, but because you made out with the gardener, he wants you to grovel to Alice for forgiveness."

"Well," I said, not sure where to go from there.

"Hypocritical, much?"

"You're not being fair to him. You don't have all the facts."

"Sweetheart, I don't need all the facts."

I sighed. Rosalie had gone from listening to me to steamrollering over me.

"We'll deal with Alice first, and then when I get back from Isle Esme we'll tackle Edward."

"Okay," I said, knowing it didn't matter what I said. Rosalie had already determined her course of action. If Alice was a force of nature, Rosalie was a freight train without brakes.

"I'll invite Alice over for tomorrow. You'll just happen to be here. You will be sincere with her and not say one bad word about Edward."

I stared at Rosalie. "That's your plan? That's not going to work. I've left Alice a slew of heartfelt messages and she's ignored every single one of them!"

"Bella. You love Edward, right?"

I nodded, not trusting my voice. I assuaged my conscience thusly: It wasn't an out-and-out lie. I wouldn't say I loved him, but there were definitely things about him that I loved.

"You're not going to bang the gardener again, are you?"

"No. And you said you were going to stop using that phrase."

"Actually, I didn't. I won't use it in front of Alice, though." She gave me a charming smile. "And Edward has forgiven you, right?"

"Only if Alice forgives me."

"She doesn't need to know that."

"What if Edward tells her?"

"He won't, because he won't want to look like a douche in front of his baby sister."

"If you say so."

"I do. I promise you, Bella, Alice will make peace with this."

"She hasn't yet," I grumbled.

"My plan won't fail."

"The only thing there is to your plan is sincerity. I can't see how that's going to work when it hasn't yet."

"_Your _part is to be sincere. I didn't say anything about _my_ part." She gave me a Cheshire cat grin. "I told you not to say anything bad about Edward. I never told you what I was going to say."

"You can't tell her the things I told you!" My voice went up a full octave in panic. "You don't have all the information. Edward is not a bad guy."

Rosalie regarded me critically with a shake of her blond head. "You really like him, don't you?" Without waiting for my answer, she continued, "Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me. I won't mention anything you told me."

I heard footsteps in the hallway. I glanced in that direction and noticed Emmett, shifting from foot to foot.

"I don't want to interrupt, but I'm going to get the girls. I can take Bella home on the way if you two are finished…"

Rosalie remained curled up in her chair, but she smiled at Emmett. "That would be great."

I stood to leave, and she added, "Bella, I'll pick you up tomorrow morning at 9. Be ready."

**Friday, April 18, 2008**

I was nervous. I was at Rosalie and Emmett's house, waiting for Alice to arrive. I knew Alice would be here at some point, but Rose hadn't mentioned when. Shortly after I arrived, she had taken a phone call. She was still on the phone, and I didn't want to nag her by asking about Alice, so I waited.

I wasn't the only one waiting for Rosalie to get off the phone, but I was the more patient one. Libby was in school, but Emma didn't go to preschool until 10:00. She was tugging on Rosalie's skirt, but it wasn't garnering her any attention.

Then Emma noticed me. She wrapped herself around my legs and looked up at me.

"Hiya," she said.

I knelt down and introduced myself as Bella.

She called me Ella, but that was close enough.

"Ella, you want to see my room!"

Emma was in perpetual motion and I was her latest and greatest plaything. She led me all through the sizable house, showing me all of her prized possessions as we went. She had a special flashlight to keep the monsters away, and she made sure to use it whenever we were in a dark hallway.

After we'd toured the entire house, including places I'm sure she wasn't supposed to take me (Emmett & Rosalie's closet?), we settled into the formal living room to have a tea party. I was pretending to eat a plastic scone, she was pretending to pour me tea.

Other than liking the name Isabella, I'd never given the idea of children much thought. Emma, though, Emma was more than a child. She was her own little person.

I heard a noise. I turned and stood, expecting to see Rosalie, but it was both Rosalie and Alice who were watching us.

Alice was glaring at me. Rosalie was grinning. I wasn't sure what to say, but it was irrelevant, because Emma noticed her aunt and charged at her.

Alice's face softened for Emma, but hardened when she looked back at me over Emma's head.

"Hey," Rose said. "I need to run Emma over to preschool. Will you two be okay here? It will only take about twenty minutes."

"I could come with you," Alice said, a hopeful note in her voice.

Rosalie shook her head. "We don't all fit in the car with the car seats in."

Alice tried again. "I could take her."

"I'll do it. See you in a few." Rosalie took Emma by the hand and fished her car keys out of her purse.

The door closed behind mother and daughter with a thud, and Alice and I were left staring after them.

The silence stretched out between us. "I tried to call you," I said, my arms crossed over my chest.

"I told you not to talk to me."

"I want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Please, Alice."

"Don't ask me for anything because I don't owe you anything." Alice crossed her arms protectively over her belly and glared at me. "I can't believe Edward is keeping you," she muttered, more to herself than to me.

I winced. "Edward and I have something together."

"Something so special it's okay to cheat on him?"

"It's complicated. But…" I knew what I needed to say, what I needed to tell her. But I couldn't lie and say I loved Edward. This wasn't the same as talking to Rosalie. This was Alice.

"Far be it for you to explain it to little ole me, then," Alice snapped.

"I love him," I said, in a voice so small I wasn't sure if she heard it or if I wanted her to hear it. As the words left my mouth, I realized I wasn't sure they were untrue. I'd made peace with telling Rosalie I loved Edward because I loved things _about_ Edward… the way his hair was never quite tidy, the way his eyes sparkled at me when he gave me his crooked smile, the way he tried to make a difference in the world, and the way he had agreed to help me even though he didn't know me. Those things wouldn't be enough for Alice. She loved her brother dearly and expected no less of me. I didn't know if love was the right word, but I was irrevocably and undeniably drawn to Edward, like a shard of iron to a magnet. I felt something for him, something that I couldn't name or deny or ignore.

She heard me. "How dare you even say that after what I caught you doing?"

"That was… physical. I have something deeper with Edward." That, at least, I was sure of. I was drawn to Edward in a way I had never been to anyone else. Since I'd met him, he'd continually occupied my thoughts, both waking and sleeping. Too bad he wasn't drawn to me in the same way I was drawn to him. Fate was cruel like that. Or maybe Fate was kind, because whether he liked me or not, whether he was angry or cold or distant, I was lucky enough to get to spend time with him.

Alice didn't say anything, and I knew she was staring at me, her sharp eyes gleaning details I would have preferred to keep private.

Without a word, Alice turned away from me and went into the kitchen. I stayed in the formal living room, and seated myself on the edge of hard sofa. Several minutes passed, and then I heard a key in the lock. I stood to greet Rosalie and she smiled at me.

"Where's Alice?"

"In the kitchen," I said.

"Why don't we join her?"

I imagined the last thing Alice wanted was my company, but I followed Rosalie anyway.

Alice was sitting at the kitchen table, a glass of water in front of her, staring off into space. After Rosalie and I sat down with her, she blinked.

"Rose, did you really need me to alter your dress for the spring ball?"

"Yes, I did."

"Why is Bella here?"

"I wanted you to realize you're being a bitch to her about nothing."

Alice's eyes blazed. "It's not nothing," she bit out.

"Well, we can agree to disagree about that. But either way, it's not going to happen again. Is it, Bella?"

"No," I said softly.

"And Edward is obviously over it."

"Edward is crazy if he's really over it," Alice huffed.

"I wouldn't call him crazy. I also don't suffer under any delusions that he's _perfect_." Rose's mouth twisted into an expression that I was beginning to recognize as dangerous. "Did it ever occur to you, that maybe Edward might have done something, or even several somethings, to deserve Bella's behavior?"

I looked over at Rosalie in alarm, my eyes pleading with her. She was not supposed to say anything bad about Edward. He loved his sister. The last thing I wanted was to create a rift between them.

Rosalie didn't acknowledge me at all; she kept her attention trained on Alice.

Alice said, "I don't like your implication, not one bit."

"He doesn't exactly have a history of treating women all that well, does he?" Rosalie pressed on. "Didn't you once accuse him of having a phobia of relationships?"

"But he was finally over that. He proposed to Bella and she broke his trust!" Alice was practically bouncing in her chair.

"Right." Rosalie smirked. "Because men, especially rich men, completely change their whole lifestyle and outlook on life the moment they put a ring on a girl's finger."

"Edward's not like that," Alice snapped. "Marriage is sacred to him."

"Of course it is," Rosalie said, suddenly soothing. "I'm not saying Edward did anything wrong. All I'm asking is that you stop being a bitch to Bella. Both of you love Edward. Both of you want what is best for him. And maybe Bella made a mistake, but if he can forgive her… shouldn't you? You are going to be sisters."

Alice looked at me for the first time during the conversation. "I'm not going to apologize for being a bitch," she warned.

"I wouldn't expect you to." Hope was springing up like daisies in my heart.

"And we're not going to instantly be friends," Alice added.

"Of course not," I said, keeping my voice calm and even.

Alice paused a moment, and then said, "But maybe you're not a she-devil."

Before I could stop myself, I leaned across the table and hugged her. She hesitated, but then she hugged me back.


	10. April 17 to April 19, 2008

**Author's Note:**

Thanks to movieandbookgirl who looked over the chapter. Thanks especially to Oxymoronic8, who was an excellent sounding board while I worked out all the implications of this chapter.

**Chapter 10**

**Thursday, April 17, 2008**

**Edward**

I added another name to the list, bringing the number to almost fifty.

_Why hadn't Emmett warned me?_ Maybe he hadn't known. I sure as hell hadn't known.

I felt ill. The Volturi were everywhere. When Emmett told me that putting Bella in my house would be 'hiding her in plain sight,' I thought it was a figure of speech.

No.

She was in plain sight, all right. She would be in plain sight of the Volturi almost any time we went out together in public. I had a list of almost fifty people who were obviously or not-so-obviously connected to the Volturi, and I knew every one of them.

I never should have taken her to that gala, never should have stepped away from her side long enough for Laurent to notice her. Laurent had direct links to the Volturi, and I had known that even then. If I hadn't been so busy watching Tanya that night, I would have seen him before he saw Bella.

Was it prudent to take Bella anywhere in public with me? It would be suspicious if she never left my house, but letting her meet the very people she was supposed to be hidden from seemed a huge fallacy. It wasn't such a far stretch to think one of them might recognize her.

Wrapped in my worry, I had a powerful desire to go home and see to Bella's safety with my own eyes. I packed up my things and floored the accelerator all the way home. I arrived home earlier than on Tuesday and Wednesday, and there was a possibility I would be able to see Bella before she went to bed. I wouldn't tell her what I knew; I didn't want to worry her. Really, what I wanted was to look at her. It had been days, and the desire to see her was so strong it was almost a physical ache.

Bella had already gone to bed when I arrived. I had given her no reason to wait up for me, so I was more disappointed than surprised. I slipped off my shoes at the bottom of the stairs so I wouldn't wake her on my way up. Once at the top of the stairs, I hesitated before going to my room. I would not be able to sleep unless I knew she was safe in her bed, and I had been sleeping poorly enough as it was.

I padded softly over to Bella's door. Slowly, I turned the knob and pushed the door open several inches. Her room was quiet, but if I listened hard enough, I could make out her whisper-quiet breathing. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, her silhouette materialized. She was wrapped in her sheet in a way that appeared uncomfortable, but she seemed fine. My arms twitched with the desire to untangle the sheet, but that would surely wake her. She needed her sleep.

I watched her for several minutes. Satisfied she was safe, I pulled her door closed and retreated to my own bedroom. I lay awake in bed until all fifty names were committed them to memory.

**Friday, April 18, 2008**

I'd been off-site, visiting two local schools and meeting with teachers and principals all day long. The Cullen Foundation had both local and national education initiatives, and as CEO, it was part of my job to keep abreast of where our dollars would make the most difference.

It was late afternoon and I was tired. I greeted Gina and went straight into my office. I sat down in my Aeron chair and stared out the window behind my desk, out at the misty cityscape of Seattle. Normally, I wouldn't be so exhausted after a day of meetings. Meetings are the bulk of what I do.

But I hadn't been sleeping well. Earlier in the week, worry about Bella's welfare kept me awake. Her heart-shaped face, with the deep circles under her eyes and the too-hollow cheeks, came to mind every time I closed my eyes. Last night it was thoughts of the Volturi that made my sleep fitful.

The picture of Bella, tangled in her sheets as though she had been tossing and turning, was etched into my mind. Were those dark smudges under her eyes because the Volturi disrupted her sleep? What horrors haunted her dreams? It wasn't merely her sleep, or lack thereof, that concerned me. She seemed so… Breakable. Hopeless. It was as though she felt caged in my house. And while caging her seemed like the safest idea, it was not the sanest idea. She had permission to drive any of the cars in the garage, but to my knowledge she'd never exercised the privilege. The Mercedes was equipped with GPS; she could have gone anywhere. She had a credit card. A car and a credit card always made Alice smile, but Bella was no Alice.

She hadn't asked yet, but I knew she was wondering if I was going to hire back the gardener. I'd said I would, and I'd meant it, but I wasn't in the mood to speak with him yet. I hadn't been in the mood to speak with him all week. It was quite possible I would never want to speak with him again. But I would. Soon. For her. She needed friends.

Bella was the only person I had ever met who could flip my emotions in two seconds flat. I'd arrived home from Haiti furious, ready to yell and possibly kick her out of the house. Now, well, now I wasn't sure what to think. She was, bar none, the most irrational, illogical, bravest girl I knew.

Her idea of having sex to sway Murphy's Law away from influencing the trial was ridiculous. That I had gone along with it and had offered to 'help' her by taking her virginity was amoral and reprehensible. The right thing to do would have been to take back my offer, show her the fallacies of her logic, and persuade her to hold true to her beliefs. But I hadn't. Instead I'd told her to make peace with my sister.

My cell phone vibrated in my pocket. It was Alice. I almost didn't answer. I was exhausted enough without enduring today's pity call to see how I was holding up in the wake of the gardener incident.

_She's pregnant, and she's your sister_, I reminded myself. I flipped the phone open.

"Hello, Alice."

She didn't answer immediately, and I felt a flicker of worry. This was not the way her pity calls generally started.

"Is everything okay?" I asked.

"I visited Rosalie this morning."

I waited for her to elaborate.

"Bella was there."

Alice had my full attention now. I frowned. The knowledge that Bella was spending time with Rosalie did not please me. I kept my voice neutral as I replied to Alice, "I wasn't aware Bella and Rosalie were friends."

"They are," Alice said, her voice clipped.

"I hope you didn't say anything rude to Bella," I said, though my mind was somewhere else. Bella and Rosalie were polar opposites. What reason could there be for them to spend time together?

Alice continued, "I may have misjudged Bella slightly."

That was unexpected. It was my turn to be silent.

"Did you," Alice started, then paused. "Did you do something that might have pushed her into doing something to get back at you?"

Oh, hell no. My almost forgotten earlier ire with Bella flared back full force. "She told you about Tanya? I can't believe she would stoop to-"

"You cheated on her with Tanya? Are you kidding me? Edward!"

"What did Bella tell you?"

"Bella didn't tell me anything about you, but Rosalie pointed out that you don't have a spotless record when it comes to women, and I wondered…"

_Rosalie._ She was always meddlesome and more than a little shallow. I still couldn't believe that my brother married her. "Do you believe everything Rosalie tells you?"

"What did you do with Tanya?"

"It's not any of your business, Alice."

"I can't believe you. Doesn't Bella mean anything to you?"

"It's complicated."

"You two deserve each other. I'm disgusted with you both. Either you love her and you want to be with her, or you should break the engagement. If I hear one word from anyone I know about you hitting on other women, I swear…"

"I'll talk to you later." I cut her off. I didn't have the energy for this right now. I flipped my phone closed and spun back to face my desk. I put my arms on my desk and my head in my hands.

Bella had made up with Alice, as best as she could. Rosalie was meddling in my life through Bella. And Alice was now going to have her many socialite friends watching me for signs of unfaithfulness to my fake fiancée. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. My anger with Bella over the gardener situation had ebbed somewhat. It wasn't Bella's fault that Alice had walked in on her, and she had clearly tried to make peace with Alice. In the scheme of things, the gardener incident was a relatively small one. I didn't believe that Bella did it to purposefully spite me; she didn't know how often she occupied my mind. She didn't know of my somewhat obsessive fixation with her.

My biggest concern had been that the gardener was in some way connected to the Volturi, and that Bella had sealed her fate by telling him her secret. I'd spent days researching, trying to connect him to the Volturi in some way and come up empty. Perhaps Bella was right, and he could be trusted. Perhaps it was only me putting Bella in danger by virtue of the people with whom I rubbed elbows. For a brief moment, I allowed myself to wonder if perhaps she would be safer hiding with the gardener, but I quashed that thought. He was a kid. He was broke. There was no way he could protect her the way I could. The way I would.

I glanced at the clock. It wasn't 5:00 yet, but it was Friday, and it was unrealistic to believe I might accomplish anything else tonight. I walked out of my office and told Gina that I was done for the day and she was free to go home. She looked up from her computer monitor, surprised. I never left early.

Keys in hand, I walked out to the parking garage. I opened my car door and slid into the familiar leather seat. I put the key in the ignition but did not turn it to start the car. Instead, I rested my hands on the steering wheel and stared at the dark cement wall in front of me. I hadn't seen Bella awake since Monday, and I wasn't sure what kind of reception I was going to receive. I'd told her that I'd had late business meetings for the last three nights. It was a lie, and she probably knew it was a lie, but I didn't want to worry her by telling her about my extracurricular research.

I couldn't stare at a cement wall forever, so I eventually turned the key in the ignition and drove home.

I used my card at the gate, drove into the garage and walked into the house. It was quiet. The kitchen was empty, as though it had gone untouched all day. My cup of coffee from this morning was still sitting on top of the bar, next to the newspaper. There were no pleasant aromas emanating from the oven and no pans on the stove, so apparently we were going out to dinner.

I loosened my tie and walked up the winding staircase toward my room, calling out for Bella as I went.

No answer.

At the top of the steps, I knocked on her bedroom door.

No answer.

I opened the door a crack, mindful of her privacy, but she didn't appear to be in there.

"Bella?" I called, projecting my voice louder this time.

There was only silence. With a growing sense of unease, I changed out of my work clothes and into my workout clothes.

_Where could she be?_

I checked for her outside, but she wasn't there either. I looked in the garage, and the Mercedes was gone.

I breathed a sigh of relief. She must have gone to run an errand or something.

I went back in the house and called her cell phone, to be sure.

No answer.

A knot of fear was growing in the pit of my stomach. I thought about the names on the list. It was entirely possible she had run into one of them at the grocery store. Anything could have happened. As I ran through a series of panicked scenarios, I dialed my brother's phone number.

Rosalie answered the phone, laughter in her voice, as though someone had told a joke she thought was funny.

"Is Emmett there?" I asked, my voice tight. I was not in the mood for laughter, and this number was his private cell phone.

Rosalie didn't answer, she put me on hold. Several seconds later, Emmett came on, also sounding amused. "What's up?"

"Bella is missing." I waited for the amusement to disappear, waited for him to move into emergency mode.

It didn't happen. He laughed.

"I don't see what's so funny," I retorted.

"Sorry. You sounded like a psycho-controlling parent. Did she not leave you a note? She's here."

"What is she doing at your house?"

"Rose and I are leaving tomorrow for our vacation, _finally_, and Bella has been playing with the girls while we pack."

I processed this bit of information as I envisioned my nieces laughing and playing with Bella. It was a charming picture. Hadn't I been thinking that she needed to leave the house? Still, she could have left a note. And Emmett was in no way as concerned about her as he should be.

"Edward?"

"What?"

"I said, Bella is going to stay for dinner. Do you want to join us?"

"No, thanks, I'll pass." The idea of seeing Bella at dinner was appealing, but I was more than a little annoyed with Rosalie for implying to Alice that I was at fault for the gardener incident.

I ended the call with Emmett and put my phone away.

I had planned to lift weights, but instead I decided to take out my annoyances on the treadmill.

An hour later, I was showered and changed and hungry. A search through the refrigerator yielded delightful evidence of Bella's cooking. There was a leftover pork chop with a creamy sauce, which I reheated.

After dinner, I did something I hadn't done in weeks. I turned on the television. The Mariners were playing the Angels. Their season, so far, was a bit of a disappointment. They were barely holding on to a winning record. As the baseball game progressed, I watched the clock.

How long could Bella possibly stay at Emmett's house? The kids had a bedtime of 8:00.

After what seemed like hours, Bella entered the house. She clutched her purse against her small frame as though it were a piece of armor, darted a nervous look at me and then went still.

I smiled to put her at ease, while taking in every detail about her appearance that I could. She was still thin, but had a bit more color than the last time I saw her. Her shoulders were hunched, like she was nervous. Why would she be nervous? It was only me.

"Did you have a good time with Rosalie and Emmett?" I was trying to be conversational.

Bella nodded, then blurted, "I'm surprised to see you here."

I frowned. "Why?"

"You've been avoiding me for days."

"Why would you think that?"

Bella gave me an incredulous look and started ticking reasons off on her fingers. "You're gone before I wake up. You don't come back until I'm asleep. You have 'business dinners' every night. Need I go on?"

"I'm busy."

"You weren't that busy before."

"Before, I took time off to make you more comfortable here. I can't do that all the time."

"Where did you have dinner last night, then? Or should I ask with whom?"

I bit my lip to keep from smiling or making a snide reply. Bella sounded jealous. I liked it more than I should have. Instead, I settled for arching an eyebrow at her and waited for her to realize exactly how she sounded.

It took less than three seconds.

Her cheeks suffused with color, and she backtracked immediately. "It doesn't matter where or who you have dinner with. It's a free country. And I know you don't owe me anything, but it felt like you were avoiding me and I wanted to know if I did something to upset you…"

"I'm sorry, Bella. I wasn't avoiding you." And then, because I couldn't stop myself, I said, "I understand you had a conversation with Alice today."

Bella's eyes widened slightly. "How did you know that? Did she tell you that?"

"She did. You successfully stopped the pity phone calls, so thank you."

Bella's answering smile was so genuine that I didn't feel compelled to point out that Alice was now disgusted with both of us. Before I could think, I closed the gap between us and cupped the side of her face in my hand. With no conscious effort on my part, my lips touched hers gently and briefly.

Bella pulled back, as though shocked.

I was surprised too, a little. I didn't take my hand off her cheek. "Change your mind?"

"You can't just avoid me for days, and then…"

I sighed. "I wasn't avoiding you. In fact, I was disappointed when I realized you weren't here."

Bella opened her mouth to say something, closed her mouth, and then opened it again. "Now you know how it feels. I'm going to bed." She whirled away and stalked up the stairs.

I considered following her, but thought better of it.

**Saturday, April 19, 2008**

My fingers moved slowly over the keys, caressing them as I finished playing.

It was the wee hours of the morning, and my fingers were tired. It had been too long since I had practiced, and the practice was a less satisfying than it could have been because the notes were not ringing exactly true. With everything that had happened in the last month, I had forgotten to schedule a spring tuning.

I pulled the cover over the piano and stepped out of the music room.

I opened the door and stepped into the dark hallway. There, curled up in a little ball, up against the wall, was Bella.

"Bella?"

No answer. I squinted into the darkness to see her better and realized her eyes were closed. She must have fallen asleep.

I didn't want to wake her, but I wasn't going to leave her to sleep in the hallway. I reached down and scooped her up into my arms. I thought that would wake her, but all she did was snuggle into my chest. I breathed in the scent of her hair as I carried her through the house, and up the stairs. I planned to take her into her bedroom, but I could see harsh, bright light shining under her door. She was asleep and so peaceful, I worried the bright light would wake her. I considered setting her down, turning off the light, and then lifting her again, but that seemed as likely to wake her.

Instead I carried her to my room. I pulled back the covers and gently laid her on the far side of my bed. She didn't stir.

I didn't think I would be able to sleep, but I decided to try.

I stripped down to my boxers and climbed under the covers, as far away from Bella as possible. I probably should have slept in a different bedroom, but I didn't want her to be unnerved when she woke up in a different place than where she fell asleep.

I rolled on to my side, facing her. My room was dark, but moonlight filtered into through the blinds, faintly illuminating her profile. Her face was the most relaxed I had ever seen it. Her cheekbones were a bit too prominent; a stark reminder that she needed to eat more. My gaze lingered on her full lips.

I closed my eyes and focused on the soft sound of Bella's even breathing. I drifted, not quite awake, not quite asleep, for what could have been minutes or hours.

"Edward."

I could have sworn Bella said my name, but when I opened my eyes, she was still asleep. Again, I returned to drifting, and again, I heard it.

Her voice was soft but clear. "Edward."

Now there was no way in hell I could sleep. All night, I watched her, listening intently for anything she might say. At one point she said 'Emma', which I supposed made sense since she had spent the day playing with my nieces. She said some random other words as well, only some of which I could make out.

Dawn came, and I had now been up so long that it was madness to consider trying to sleep. I quietly exited the bed and went downstairs. The coffee hadn't started brewing, so I went ahead and started it manually. I brought in the newspaper, but the text swam in front of my eyes.

Unable to read, I started to think about how Bella might react to waking up in my bed. Would she panic? Would she be upset? Perhaps it would have been better if I'd braved the light and put her in her own bed. Further thinking on the matter was averted by Bella padding into the kitchen.

Her eyes were bleary and her hair was a haystack, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her.

"Good morning," I greeted. "Would you like breakfast?"

Bella looked around the kitchen suspiciously. "You cooked?"

"Well, no. But I would be delighted to take you to breakfast." At the incredulous look she gave me, I added, "Or I could pick up breakfast for us."

Bella blinked, processing what I said. "Why was I in your bedroom?"

"I found you asleep in the hallway outside the music room. I tried to carry you to your room, but the light was on."

"You couldn't have turned the light off?" Bella looked puzzled.

"I was worried it would wake you."

"How many bedrooms do you have in this house?"

"Four." I flushed. It hadn't occurred to me to put her in one of the other bedrooms. "I thought it would unnerve you to wake up in a strange place."

Bella laughed.

"What's so funny?"

Bella kept laughing as she made her way into the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a little irritated that she was laughing at me.

"I'm making breakfast. You stocked the kitchen, remember? It would be criminal to go out to eat with all this food in the house."

"You don't have to cook."

"You do realize I'd never even seen your bedroom before?"

It was my turn to blink. I realized then what was so funny to her. Waking up in my bedroom was probably as unnerving to her as it would have been to wake up in any of the guest rooms… probably more unnerving.

Bella interrupted my thoughts by asking, "Would an omelet be okay?"

"An omelet would be wonderful. May I help?"

"Can you make toast?"

"Of course I can."

"I like mine buttered with a very thin layer of jelly." Bella cracked an egg, then added, "And pour the orange juice."

I was almost insulted that Bella thought I was only worthy of making toast, but it was not an inaccurate assessment. Cooking was not one of my core competencies, so I didn't waste time on it.

After the toast was in the toaster and I had the butter and jelly at the ready, I indulged in watching Bella move around the kitchen. She was in her element and graceful, not clumsy at all, and she was humming a little tune as she worked. It was a charming picture: Bella in her pajamas, floating around my kitchen, making us breakfast.

This was the warmest things had been between us in weeks, and I hated to mar it, but I had to ask, "Why were you in the hallway last night?"

Her happy humming ceased, but she continued working. She poured the eggs into two pans and studiously avoided my gaze.

"Bella…" I started.

"Did you really have business dinners all week, or were you avoiding me?"

Two could play this game. "Why haven't you been eating enough?"

Bella continued to avoid looking at me. She stood perched over the stove, fork in hand, methodically moving the eggs from the side of each pan.

"You better check the toast, Edward."

As she said it, the unmistakable smell of burnt toast assailed my nostrils. I dashed over, but it was too late.

Bella giggled. "Edward Cullen can't make toast."

I glared at the sorry, burnt pieces of what was once bread. "I never claimed perfection."

"You didn't," Bella agreed. "But you can't argue that you have a significantly larger skill set than the average person. It's intimidating. It is kind of a relief to see you fail at something."

I selected four more slices of bread and inserted them into the toaster. This time I adjusted the setting so that the level of doneness would be medium-light instead of medium-dark. As I poured the orange juice, I pondered how to respond.

"I wasn't avoiding you. I wasn't spending time with Tanya or anyone else. I was working."

Bella responded in kind. "I couldn't sleep last night, so I went downstairs to watch television. I heard music, so I investigated. You were playing one of my favorite songs, so I thought it wouldn't hurt if I listened for a little while."

"And then you fell asleep." As I spoke, I ran through the song list in my mind, wondering which piece of music she was fond of. First Arabesque? Tchaikovsky's 6th?

She nodded. "Watch the toast."

I glanced at the toast and found that it was, indeed, already done, even though it hadn't popped. I didn't want to burn it again, so I extracted it. Bella apparently possessed a sixth sense where food was concerned.

I buttered the toast and carefully spread a thin layer of currant preserves all the way to the edge of the crust. By the time I finished, Bella was seated at the bar in the kitchen, waiting for her toast with her hands folded in her lap, an omelet in front of her. I stacked the toasts together and carried them to the bar. She plucked her two off the top of the pile, and I set mine on my plate.

The omelet was light and fluffy with a thin layer of cheese, red peppers, ham, and mushrooms inside.

"You were right," I said, as I savored a bit of omelet.

"Of course I was," Bella retorted. "What was I right about?"

"It would have been a crime to go out to eat. This is much better."

Bella smiled up at me from under her lashes, and my heart thudded unevenly. I watched her as she ate, drinking in the sight of her. I had pictured her in my head all week, but even my keen eye for detail had somehow failed to note the slight red tint to her brown hair, the way she tilted her head a little to the side as she ate, the tiny mole on the right side of her chin.

"Aren't you going to eat yours?" she asked, when she noticed I was staring at her instead of eating.

I tore my eyes from her and went back to eating. "Did you have a chance to revise the document of our history while I was in Haiti?"

"I did, actually. Do you want to see it?"

"Very much so." I ate another delectable bite of omelet, took a sip of juice. "I want to make sure that we give every appearance of a viable couple."

Bella pursed her lips, and I had a feeling there was something she was holding back.

"What?" I asked.

"Well," she said, "It would be a lot easier for me to sell us as a couple if I didn't have to watch you flirting with other people while we were together."

Oh. This was about Tanya, which was ludicrous. I'd only let myself near Tanya in the first place to protect Bella from my attention.

"Bella," I said, weighing my words carefully. She was so sensitive; I didn't want her to overreact.

"It doesn't matter Edward. I'm not asking you to become a monk. I'm asking you to keep it behind closed doors."

"There's no one else."

"What?"

"I'm not seeing anyone. What you saw was a fluke." That was a small bend of the truth. It wasn't exactly a fluke, since it was on purpose, but I had quickly concluded that a physical relationship with Tanya was not going to purge Bella from my mind. Thus, there was no point in bothering with Tanya.

"You don't have to lie to me, Edward."

"It's true, Bella. There's no one else." I reached over and put one hand under her chin, tilting it up so that her eyes met mine. I meant for the gesture to affect her, for her to see that I was sincere, but it was me who was affected. As I gazed into her lucid brown eyes, I had a compelling urge to know everything there was to know about her.

I leaned closer to her, and her eyes widened. I hesitated, waiting for her to pull back, to run like she always had in the past. On some level I wished she would run, because I was too selfish to stop myself right now.

She held still, her lips full and waiting.

I moved my head toward hers, a scant millimeter at a time, fully expecting her to retreat at any second.

I was stunned when her lips were suddenly on mine. She had closed the gap between us and was kissing me. I recovered quickly. I shifted the hand that was under her chin to the side of her face and wrapped my other hand in her hair.

Her lips were soft and warm as they moved against mine. Without breaking our kiss, I slid off the bar stool so that I was standing, and then pulled her toward me. She didn't resist, and I moved my hands down her body to her waist and slid her off her seat so that she was standing, her body pressed against mine.

All rational thought exited my mind. I moved my hands over her, learning her curves as I explored her mouth. I had been so fixated on Bella for the last month with no outlet; the excitement I felt now bordered on explosive.

She licked me. Licked me. I shivered. I'd never responded this way to a girl before. Perhaps it was because of all the pent up energy, or all the time I'd spent obsessing over her, but I wanted to carry her to my room and make her scream my name.

And then I remembered.

I had to stop.

I broke our kiss. "Bella. We need to stop."

She ran her hands up my back and to my shoulders. She positioned one hand at the base of my neck, playing idly with the fine hair there. Her lips were swollen from the kissing and she had fuck-me eyes. We definitely needed to stop. I was not prepared at this moment to take her virginity. My self-control was at its limit.

Bella blushed fiercely. "You're right."

I knew I was right, but why did she think I was right?


	11. April 19 to April 26, 2008

**Chapter 11**

**Saturday, April 19, 2008**

**Bella**

Ecstatic joy at his proximity. Embarrassment because we couldn't go all the way. Terror that I might pass out from the excitement. I was wildly oscillating among all of them.

Edward rarely touched me when we weren't in public. And now, now, he was kissing me. We had full frontal contact, and I could feel evidence of his arousal pressing against me. He wasn't pretending to want me, he did want me. My anger with him over Tanya, my guilt over feeling ungrateful, my depression over the whole Volturi situation; everything melted away in the heat of our passion.

But this wasn't going to go anywhere today.

Why? Because apparently changing my name from Marie to Bella did not change my luck. Auntie Flow was visiting me. Now. When I could be having passionate sex with Edward. It would be kind of hard to have sex with a tampon in between my legs.

How could I let him know that I wanted him, wanted this, but not at this minute?

"Bella. We need to stop."

_Yes!_ We needed to stop before an incredibly mortifying conversation occurred. "You're right."

But why did he want to stop?

"Is everything okay?" I asked, suddenly edgy as the sparks between us dissipated.

Edward laughed, an abrupt sound echoing through the vast kitchen. "No, everything is not okay. Your logic is twisted, and my acquiescing to it is deplorable."

I couldn't help it but roll my eyes. "It's not that big of a deal. It's just sex. We're two consenting adults."

At his hesitation, I pointed out, "And you'd be doing me a favor." He still looked unconvinced, so I flashed my ring and a bright smile at him and added, "We're even engaged."

"Why did you want to stop, then?" he asked, his brow furrowing.

"I may be ready," he had _no_ idea how ready I was, "but that doesn't mean I'm ready this moment." Not only was it an unappealing time of the month, but Rosalie had given me a packet of her birth control pills as a favor when she I told her my prescription had "lapsed." If I was going to throw out virginity, I wanted to do it thoroughly.

Edward gave me a searching look. "Bella, we don't have to do this. Just because I said… and you said… that doesn't mean…"

Disappointment settled on me like a dark cloud, and I could feel my shoulders slump as I looked at the ground. He didn't want me. I was a flash of lust to him, nothing substantial or lasting. He probably considered me a poor substitute for that Tanya chick. Ugh.

Edward put his hand under my chin, lifting it until I looked at him. His eyes, like green glass, flashed at me. "Pick a day."

I was staggered by his intensity. I couldn't move, couldn't speak, though my mind was zooming a thousand miles a minute.

He didn't break his gaze from me; he arched an eyebrow as he awaited my response.

"Next Saturday?" My voice was tiny and barely recognizable.

"An excellent day." He smiled at me in response, and then sat back down and finished his breakfast as if the Earth hadn't shifted its orbit for us only minutes before.

I let out a shaky breath and looked at my plate. I couldn't possibly eat anything right now.

Edward pushed my barstool out so that I could sit down.

I shook my head. "I think I'm finished."

"You need to eat, Bella."

I sat and tried to calm down enough to finish my food. I managed a few more bites, and that seemed to satisfy him.

As Edward cleared up the dishes, his back to me, I sat at the bar, watching him, as my thoughts drifted. This morning I'd awoken in his bed, in his room. The feeling of waking up there had been wonderful. I hadn't known why I was in his bed, but I hadn't cared. I felt safe there, and it warmed me to the tips of my toes. I'd even crawled over to his side of the bed and discovered it was still warm, as though he had recently been there.

The only thing that had motivated me to get up and out of his bed was the realization that he could have walked in on me snuggling his pillow. That was a scene I had wanted to avoid.

Somehow, the morning had progressed from there to now, where I was watching Edward clean up our breakfast dishes after having experienced a kiss that turned my knees to jelly. It took me a moment to realize he had turned around and was watching at me. My eyes traced up his body until they reached his face.

"Did you hear me?" He wore a cocky, crooked smirk.

"Sorry, my mind was wandering," I said, as I tried to keep the traitor blush from my cheeks.

"Why don't you bring down your laptop and we can look at our 'history' together?"

"Oh. You want to do that right now?"

Edward huffed out a breath. "I want to do it a month ago. We need to present a united front when people ask us questions."

I frowned. Something about his stance made me nervous. I slid off the barstool and trekked up the stairs. When I returned with the laptop in hand, Edward was seated in the living room on the sofa.

This was new.

He usually sat in his leather chair.

He gestured for me to put the laptop on the coffee table, and I did.

Was I supposed to sit next to him? As if in answer, he shifted on the sofa, moving over a little.

I perched on the edge of the sofa next to him, close enough to see the laptop's screen, far enough that we were not touching.

We went over my edits and changes for a while. He accepted most of my changes, and when he didn't accept a change, he had a solid reason. I started to relax with him, until I noticed that his leg was touching mine.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked.

"Um, nothing." _Nothing, except for the fact that your leg is touching mine and I can't think straight_,I added silently.

He flicked his eyes back to the screen and continued reading. Periodically, he would make a comment to me about something, but his comments might as well have been in Greek, because all of my attention was focused on each minute movement his thigh made against mine.

**Sunday, April 20, 2008**

Edward and I spent all of Saturday drilling on our manufactured history. I knew it so well, I could practically feel the sand between my toes in Anguilla, the Caribbean island where Edward supposedly took me after we had been 'dating' one month.

Today, the plan was to visit his parents. I wanted to visit his parents about as much as I wanted to be strung up by my toenails, naked, in the middle of a forest. Which was to say I did not want to see them or face them at all.

"It will be fine," Edward insisted.

"Of course it will be fine for you," I grumbled, "you're not the one who supposedly shagged the gardener."

"I know you're worried about what they'll think, but my mother knows how hormonal Alice is right now." Edward paused, and then continued, "Besides, she'll get over it as soon as she finds out we've set a date for the wedding."

"What?" My voice came out sharper than I intended, but the idea of setting a date for any wedding that involved me was disturbing.

"I've been giving serious thought to our situation, Bella. I think we should start making some wedding plans."

"But we're not getting married."

"I know. That's why we're setting the date for next June."

"June?" I squeaked.

"Yes. That will leave plenty of time to cancel without inconveniencing our guests too much."

"Guests?" I sounded retarded, but it couldn't be helped.

"Bella," Edward said, his voice calm, as though he were talking to a skittish deer, "weddings have invitations. And guests. And food. And fancy clothes. Once we start planning ours, I'll feel a lot better about your safety."

"People think I'm dead. I'm not in danger until the trial is closer. You know that, right?"

Edward hesitated. "There will be a deposition before the trial, right?"

He had me there. The North Carolina D.A. had promised me they would do everything possible to protect my identity during the deposition, but the Volturi would know it was me. They would know I was alive, based on my testimony. I didn't know when the deposition would happen, but it would be well before the trial.

"I'd feel more secure knowing no one could possibly have a shred of doubt in their mind about us."

"Don't you think it's a little bit cruel to get your mother's hopes up for a wedding that isn't going to happen?"

"She's a grown-up. She'll be okay. Besides, she's going to have a ball planning this wedding."

"But the bride's family usually…"

"You don't have any family, remember? And I'm paying for the wedding, so don't worry about it."

I knew he didn't mean that comment to sting, but it did. He could be blasé about the loss of my parents because he had family to spare. I bit my tongue against all the things I wanted to say. This whole thing was turning into an ever-more-complex game of cat's cradle. At some point, I had a feeling I was going to get caught in a loop of string and hang myself. I could kind of deal with pretending to be a fiancée. I had agreed to it, at least. But going so far as pretending to plan a wedding was all kinds of twisted and was going to tie us in knots.

Against my will, we arrived at Edward's parents' house in the early afternoon. They greeted me warmly enough, but it didn't seem that Esme's smile quite reached her eyes when she hugged me. Maybe it was my imagination. At least Libby and Emma greeted me with excited shrieks until Carlisle offered to let them watch a movie.

The adults all settled in the family room for a spot of afternoon tea. That was what Esme called it. I would have called it a snack.

I had to give Edward a bit of credit. There were no awkward silences. He and his father conversed easily about the latest giving targets of the Cullen Foundation, and his mother chimed in periodically to discuss this or that charity event she wanted to plan.

I was the quiet one. I kept my hands folded in my lap and my legs crossed at the ankles. I had no idea if rich people sat this way, but it was what they taught me in the ridiculous cotillion class Renee made me suffer through at the age of thirteen.

I nibbled on a Mexican wedding cookie while I tried to pretend that Edward's hand wasn't resting on my thigh. Who served cookies called wedding cookies at a casual tea? I assumed Esme was trying to send us some kind of message, but it could have been 'get married' or it could have been 'this is as close to a wedding with my son as you're going to get.' No one I knew back home would send a message through cookies, and I wished she would say what she meant instead of being coy.

"Mom, Dad," Edward said, all white teeth and a smile, as he squeezed my hand, "Bella and I have set a date for the wedding."

Carlisle stood immediately. Edward followed suit, his hand still holding mine. Carlisle clapped Edward on the back. I watched the exchange blankly until I realized that Esme was watching me. I put myself back into the WWEFD (What Would Edward's Fiancée Do?) mentality and plastered a smile on my face.

"When is the wedding?" Carlisle asked, smiling at both of us.

"Bella has always wanted a June wedding, so we decided on June 20, 2009."

"A June bride." Esme beamed, and it seemed sincere. "I'm sure your mother is quite excited, Bella." Then she looked at Edward. "Are you sure you want to get married on the 20th?"

"It's the third Saturday in June, Mother," Edward answered blandly. Something passed between them that went over my head.

I was quite sure that my mother would not have been at all thrilled to see me as a June bride any time before the age of thirty. When she was alive, she had not been a fan of the institution of marriage, and I couldn't keep the facade of a smile. It was too much to hope that Esme hadn't noticed, and I searched my mind for something to say that would explain my sour disposition.

Edward's hand tugged mine until I was standing next to him, and he wrapped his arm around me. "Mom, this is where we need your help. Bella's parents have both passed. We were waiting to set a date because the idea of having a wedding without her parents was a little upsetting." He tilted his head to look down at me, the very image of a tender fiancé, and then looked back at his mother, "Would you help plan the wedding?"

"Of course I will," she said, and dashed forward to hug me.

I was frozen. There it was again. I had shared with Edward that both of my parents had passed away in confidence. It was private. It was personal. To him it was a casual thing, something he could mention to his mother in passing. I was furious, but there was nothing I could do but return his mother's hug.

I hugged her hard, channeling all of my frustration into it, and she hugged me back fiercely. She clearly interpreted it differently than I meant it, but that was for the best. When she released me, Edward drew me to him and kissed the top of my head. I was torn between letting myself relax against him and the fierce desire to punch him in the gut.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Edward and his parents laughed a lot together, and I might have been touched by their close relationship under other circumstances. Instead I counted the minutes until we could politely go home. During dinner, I spent my time talking to Libby and Emma so that I wouldn't have to chat with Edward or his parents.

Before we left, Esme invited me to go looking at wedding venues sometime next week. After Edward discreetly stepped on my foot, I enthusiastically agreed to go with her.

We drove back to Edward's house in silence. I let him help me out of the car and into the house, but I was still feeling betrayed.

"That wasn't so bad, now, was it?" Edward said, as he pulled a beer out of the refrigerator. "Would you like something to drink?"

"No, I wouldn't," I snapped, knowing I sounded like a petulant child. How could he be so oblivious? I wanted to yell and cry. I didn't want to plan any wedding, especially not a fake one. I didn't want strangers to know my private, personal details.

Edward took a swig of beer and then gave me a searching look. "What's wrong?"

Tears stung the corners of my eyes, and I knew if I stayed and talked to him I would turn into an irrational, blubbering mess, so I didn't say anything. Instead I said a curt goodnight and stalked up the steps.

**Monday, April 21, 2008**

By the time I came downstairs for breakfast, Edward was already at work. I had deliberately waited until he would be gone to go downstairs. I pushed away the smidgeon of disappointment I felt that he hadn't waited for me this morning to see if I was still upset.

He sent me an email saying he would not be home for dinner. Maybe he was working, like he said, or maybe he was manufacturing work so he wouldn't have to see me tonight. I was betting on the latter, especially since hadn't bothered to call. He didn't even want to talk to me.

I spent the rest of the day in the garden, pulling weeds. It was cathartic.

**Tuesday, April 22, 2008**

Edward was gone when I went downstairs for breakfast.

There were no more weeds to pull, but I wanted to do something physical to keep my mind off other things. Since I couldn't swim, the pool was out of the question, but I decided to try out the fitness room.

The fitness room was tricked out with an elliptical machine, a treadmill, a recumbent bike, a slew of free weights and a weight bench, a chin-up bar, and a punching bag. Looking at the equipment, all I could think was, _Edward sweats here_.

My mother used to tell people that I was allergic to physical activity. Maybe I was, but the idea of sweating where Edward did was oddly appealing. I spent forty-five minutes on the elliptical machine, gazing out the window at the well-manicured grounds behind the house. From a distance they still appeared pristine, but my weeding yesterday had shown me that they were in need of some TLC. I wondered if Edward would hire Jacob back.

I stumbled off the elliptical machine. My legs were ready to buckle beneath me. I was sticky with sweat. I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and winced. Edward looked sexy right after his workouts. My workout left me with a heaving chest, a red face, and frizzy hair.

I didn't see Edward that night, but that wasn't a surprise.

**Wednesday, April 23, 2008**

I woke up early, 7 A.M., and padded downstairs to see if Edward was still in the house.

He was.

He was seated, drinking his coffee. His back was to me.

I held my breath. I'd wanted to see him, but now that he was here I wasn't sure I wanted him to see me. This was my opportunity to tell him how upset I was with him, to share all the things I'd been storing up.

But all I wanted to do was touch his hair.

Disgusted with myself, I turned around to head back up the stairs. I'd come down in such a hurry that I was still in my pajamas.

I had gone up a few steps and then I heard him.

"Bella?"

I debated whether to turn around. I could have pretended I didn't hear him, but that would have been rude.

I wheeled around slowly. "Yes?"

Our eyes met across the expanse of the foyer.

I thought Edward was going to say something, but after we stared at each for several seconds, he shook his head. "Never mind. I'll be home late again tonight."

I watched him leave, torn between relief and disappointment.

I worked out again. It didn't go any better than the day before. In fact, it went worse, because I was sore from the previous day, but I derived a small amount of perverse comfort from my aches and pains.

I showered and changed, not sure what I was going to do with my day.

When the phone rang, I dashed to answer it. Maybe Edward was calling…

But it was Alice. I tried not to let my disappointment show. It wasn't her fault she wasn't Edward. Alice invited me to go to the spa with her, which seemed a little odd, considering our rocky relationship of late. I didn't want to go to the spa, but I didn't think I could turn her down.

She arrived in her banana yellow Porsche and honked for me. I settled into the passenger's seat without a word. I didn't know where we stood, so I didn't want to be the first to speak.

We sat in silence for several minutes before Alice spoke.

"My mom said you and Edward set a date for the wedding."

"June 20th." I was hoping if I kept my answers short, she would grow bored and change the subject.

No such luck.

"Have you picked the wedding party yet?"

"Um, no."

Alice stared at me.

"Please look at the road, Alice."

She turned to face the road again. "You seriously haven't picked your wedding party? You're engaged! The wedding is hardly more than a year away!"

I felt ill, something that was becoming a common occurrence lately. I knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Alice was angling to be in the wedding party. I didn't want to get her hopes up. There wasn't going to be a wedding. But who trounces the hopes of a pregnant woman?

I took a deep breath and braced myself to lie. "Alice, Edward wants you in the wedding party, and we are going to be sisters. I know we didn't get off to the best start, but would you be my matron of honor?"

"Really?" She bounced in her leather bucket seat, her hands practically vibrating on the steering wheel. I watched her pregnant belly move, and I hoped that her son hadn't been trying to sleep, because there was no way he was sleeping now. "I look nice in green. Have you looked at bridesmaid dresses yet? Will anyone else be in the wedding party?"

"Alice," I said, because if I didn't stop her, I was sure she would go on and on with the wedding questions. "Edward and I are going through kind of an intense time. Can we maybe let the wedding stuff rest for a while?" _Can we maybe never talk about the wedding ever again? _I added silently.

Alice slid a sly gaze over at me as she pulled into a parking spot. I ignored the look and helped her out of the car.

As we sat for our pedicures, Alice continued with her knowing looks, and I couldn't let it pass in silence anymore.

"What are you looking so smug about?"

"I'm not smug. Can't I just be happy that you and Edward are ironing out your differences?"

"All we did was set a date."

"You don't have to lie to me. Edward told me the two of you have big plans for Saturday."

"He did?"

"Why do you think I wanted to be sure you fit in a spa trip this week?"

I wanted to scream. It wasn't enough to talk to his parents about my private details. Now he was telling his sister our private details. He obviously didn't tell her everything, but it was still upsetting, especially since I had no idea what he told her.

I gave Alice a look, because there were no words I could calmly say.

Alice sent back a tentative smile. "Look, Bella. I can't pretend I'm not mad you cheated on my brother… but I'm not exactly thrilled with him right now, either. I want Edward to be happy like I'm happy, and in spite of the mess you two are making, I think you really have a shot together. So can we start over again?"

**Thursday, April 24, 2008**

I didn't rush downstairs on Thursday. I took a shower, washed my hair, brushed my teeth, and dressed to face the day. When I went downstairs, I was shocked to find Edward sitting at the bar in the kitchen with the newspaper.

"Good morning," Edward said when I entered the kitchen. "There's coffee, if you're interested."

"Thanks," I poured myself a cup even though I tried to avoid caffeine. I studiously avoided his gaze.

"You didn't need to weed the gardens, you know."

I glanced back at him, surprised he had noticed the work I had done earlier in the week. "I know."

"I hired back the gardener," Edward said, his voice neutral, as though he were telling me about the weather. "He's only going to be back part-time, though, because he accepted another job during his absence."

"Oh." I wasn't sure what the appropriate response was. Should I thank him for re-hiring Jake, even though he shouldn't have fired him in the first place?

"He'll be in this afternoon."

"Thanks for the heads up." I took a sip of the coffee and burned my tongue.

"I'll be home early today," Edward set down the newspaper and looked at me.

I glared back at him. "I'm not going to sleep with him. You don't have to come home early to babysit."

Edward's jaw tensed. "I was coming home early because I thought you'd like to go out somewhere tonight. I've been scarce lately and I thought you were bored. If you'd rather be here, spending time with my gardener, that's fine. I have plenty of work I can be doing instead."

"Edward-"

"Forget it. Maybe I'll see you tonight." He said not another word to me as he stood up, put his coffee cup in the dishwasher, and exited.

I stared at his retreating form, wishing I could take back my earlier words.

Jacob did come that afternoon.

I saw him out on the grounds. He looked up at the house several times, as though he were looking for me. I should have gone and talked to him, but I wasn't in the mood.

**Friday, April 25, 2008**

I didn't see Edward Thursday night or Friday morning.

I spent Friday lost in a trashy romance novel I'd picked up at the supermarket. Yes, Edward's library was excellent, but it was filled with thought-provoking books. I wanted something fluffy. I needed more fluff in my life.

Jake arrived to work mid-afternoon. I debated whether to go and talk to him.

I watched him from the kitchen with the lights off so that he wouldn't see me watching him. Yes, I was being creepy, but I wasn't sure how to approach him.

After Alice had barged in on us two weeks ago, we had pretty much stopped talking. By that, I mean that I stopped talking to Jake. I had been so anxious about what Edward would do when he came home that Jake had taken a back burner. He had given me his phone number and I hadn't called him. He probably hated me, but I owed him an apology. Not only had I been a lousy friend, but I'd gotten him fired.

I gathered my nerve and walked outside.

"Hey, Bells!" Jake exclaimed as soon as he saw me, his eyes wide with a welcome I didn't deserve. Guilt gnawed at me.

"Hey, yourself." I gave him a small smile.

"How are you?"

"Listen, Jake, I'm so sorry. For everything."

The corners of Jake's eyes crinkled as he smiled wider at me. "Bella, I understand your situation is complicated right now. But I'd still like to be… friends."

Relieved, I grinned. "I'd like us to be friends too."

I leaned in to hug Jake, and he wrapped me in his embrace. I smiled into his shoulder. No one could ever have too many hugs. I turned my head slightly to tell him how much I appreciated his friendship, but he covered my mouth with his and kissed me. At first I was too shocked to move, and Jake took that as an invitation to stick his tongue in my mouth.

I pulled back immediately. "I can't do this."

"Come on, Bella. You're not engaged. You're not a nun. It's okay to want to spend time with me."

I took a deep breath. "I like you, Jake, but not like that."

"That's not what you said two weeks ago."

"I didn't say-"

"Bella, you like me, I know you do. Let me take care of you. Let me help you. Don't let _him_ bully you into staying away from me."

Despite my good intentions, I'd misled Jake. "Jake, you helped me so much, but…"

"Something changed, didn't it?"

"You don't want me, Jake. I'm a mess. I might not even be alive next year."

His hands on my shoulders, he looked me straight in the eye. "You don't know what I want."

He'd been a good friend to me when I needed one, and I was the one who escalated it to something more. I was a terrible person.

I swallowed hard. "I'm really sorry if I led you on."

"It's because of him, isn't it?"

I looked away, unsure how to respond. How could I explain to Jake that Edward, someone who only saw me as a charity case, dominated all of my thoughts? I was pretty sure Jake wouldn't understand.

Finally, I said, "Can we just be friends? I miss your friendship terribly."

Jake looked as though he wanted to say something, but then didn't. Instead he gave me a half-hearted grin. "Yeah, Bells, we can be friends. How is your list coming along?"

"It's sort of been at a standstill," I said with a sheepish grin. "I've read a few more books, but that was as far as I got."

"If you ever want any help…"

"I'll definitely keep you in mind." I glanced at my watch, surprised to realize it was already 5:00. I had no idea what I was going to make for dinner. "I should get back in the house. See you soon?"

"Definitely."

I waved to Jake and dashed back through the door that led into the kitchen. I stood in front of the open refrigerator door, lost in thought. I needed something quick and easy for dinner, but not too casual, on the off-chance that Edward decided to grace me with his presence.

So intent was I on the refrigerator that I jumped when I heard a noise.

Edward was standing several feet behind me, regarding me coldly. His hair was wet, as though he had just come from the shower. He was wearing casual clothes, not his work clothes.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm positively peachy."

I looked carefully at Edward. I'd never heard him use the word 'peachy' before, and the look he was giving me was almost venomous.

"Are you going to be here for dinner?" I hated myself for sounding hopeful.

"No. I came home to fit in a workout. I have things to do tonight." He turned on his heel and left abruptly.

**Saturday, April 26, 2008**

Was today the day?

I would have thought not, but neither of us said anything to the contrary. Was I crazy for hoping that maybe…? Yes, I was definitely crazy. He was distant. He was inconsiderate. He was frustrating in the extreme, and he wasn't even here for me to vent at him.

There were dozens of reasons that I should want as little contact with him as possible. So why did I crave his presence?

If I was honest with myself, this wasn't about my plan to lose my virginity. That plan hinged on the idea that I would live to regret my actions, and I had a nasty feeling I wouldn't regret sleeping with Edward.

Edward was either not awake or not home when I went downstairs. I suppressed my disappointment and consoled myself by remembering all the reasons I wanted to stay away from him. I poured myself a bowl of cereal and a glass of orange juice. I set them on the bar in the kitchen. I started to eat, and then I saw a note, handwritten by Edward, asking me to please run some errands. Eight errands were listed. They were menial things, like picking up his dry cleaning, having routine maintenance done on the Mercedes, and going to buy light bulbs for the dining room candelabra. He'd never asked me to do things like this before, and although I certainly didn't mind helping him out, I couldn't help but wonder at his reasoning.

Fifteen minutes later, I was standing on a chair on the dining room table, trying to figure out what wattage and size of light bulb I would need. I almost fell, but I did manage to unscrew a bulb to take with me to the store.

The errand list took me all day, partly because I got lost twice trusting the stupid GPS over my own good sense. When I arrived back at the house, it was near dinner time, my feet were tired, and my mood was cranky. I almost didn't notice Edward's car was in the garage.

I hauled all my purchases into the house and dropped them inside the doorway of the mudroom. The kitchen smelled heavenly, as though someone had been cooking, but it was dark and empty. I peeked into the living room and the den, half-hoping to catch a sighting of Edward, but the whole downstairs was silent.

I stifled my disappointment. I told myself I didn't want to see Edward anyway. I kept looking around for him, though, justifying it to myself thusly: If we were both in the house, shouldn't I know where he was?

I walked up the stairs with a soft step. I may have wanted to know where he was, but he didn't necessarily need to know where I was. I checked the fitness room first. A towel was hanging over the elliptical machine, and I wondered if that was from today or from yesterday. My eyes went from the towel to the window. The window overlooked the grounds behind the house; I knew that from my own workouts.

I walked over to the window and gazed outside. Edward had quite a sense of aesthetics; the grounds were beautiful. As I continued to look at the grounds, I realized I could see the exact spot where I had been talking to Jacob yesterday.

Suddenly Edward's coldness made sense. He must have seen my whole conversation with Jake from up here while he was working out. I replayed the scene in my head, cringing. Jake and I had probably looked quite cozy, especially when he kissed me.

Edward must have thought I broke our deal. He could have asked me about the scene with Jacob. But no. He had assumed the worst. That was the problem with Edward. He was always, always assuming things.

There was nothing I could do about it now.

Perhaps he was hiding out in his bedroom. I suddenly didn't care anymore.

I walked back down the hallway to my bedroom and flopped down on my bed.

Something crinkled underneath me.

It was a another note. It was unsigned, but it was written in Edward's tidy print. All it said was, _"Formal dinner at 6:00 in the dining room._

I stared at it. I was tired of getting notes from Edward. Could he not just talk to me? And what did _formal dinner_ mean, anyway? Were people coming over? Was I supposed to dress up? Why did he have to be so cryptic?

If people were coming over, the house was awfully quiet. It was already past 5:00, although it did seem that rich people did things later than normal people. Formal had to mean I should dress up. I sighed and pulled a form-fitting black dress out of my closet and took it with me to the bathroom. I took a relaxing shower with all the side jets on, dressed, and put on a little bit of make-up.

Feeling ridiculous, I had half a mind to tell Edward where he could shove his notes; but at 6:00, I stepped into a pair of heels and walked down the stairs anyway.

Piano music was playing over the sound system, but it was an unfamiliar tune. The lights were dim and the curtains were drawn. I traipsed over the stone floor and into the dining room. Edward appeared out of nowhere and pulled a chair back for me so that I could sit down.

After I sat, he pushed my chair in, and felt his fingers brush my shoulder.

My mouth went dry.

He hadn't forgotten that today was the day. He hadn't changed his mind. He was having a romantic dinner with me and then we were going to…

I had spent most of the week angry with him, I'd spent all day irritated with him for sending me on a wild goose chase of errands, and now we were going to…

I couldn't think the words of what we were going to do.

I couldn't think about anything else.

Edward seated himself across from me. "You look lovely tonight, Bella." His voice was stiff and formal, and I had a feeling he was angry about yesterday.

"Thank you." I spread my napkin in my lap and took a sip of water. The downstairs still smelled wonderful, and I wondered who was here cooking. It couldn't have been Edward; he couldn't make toast.

"I presume you had no trouble taking care of the items on the list I left this morning?" Edward's eyes twinkled in the dim light, and I wondered if he was mocking me.

"Aside from almost falling off the table while I tried to figure out what wattage we needed for the candelabra, it was fine."

He shook his head at me. "You should have just bought some of each. Light bulbs are cheap."

I glared at him. I opened my mouth to speak, but a server materialized out of nowhere with bread and a bottle of wine.

Edward glanced up at the server. "This is the aperitif?"

"Yes, Mr. Cullen, the Riesling."

The server poured some in Edward's glass, and he swirled it around and gave it taste. "This will do. Go ahead and decant the red."

He topped off Edward's glass, and then turned to me.

I was a drinking lightweight. I could not start drinking before we even got to the food. I didn't even like wine that much. I shook my head to indicate I didn't want any, but the server had already started pouring. He finished pouring and then disappeared.

My hands were in my lap, and I sat, watching Edward. He took a drink of wine, and then offered me a piece of bread.

"No, thank you." I shook my head. "You didn't have to do this, you know."

"Anything worth doing is worth doing right," Edward said in a low voice.

I was so disconcerted by his words that instead of taking a sip of water, I took a sip from my wine glass. I winced as the unexpected liquid stung the back of my throat.

"It's not too late to back out," Edward said, and I wondered if he had misinterpreted my wince. "We don't have to do this. You can save this for your wedding night, for someone you love."

Before he could continue, I asked, "Do you want to back out?"

"That's not what I said."

I forced down several swallows from my wineglass in rapid succession. "Me neither."

We sat in silence for several minutes, looking anywhere but at each other. It was not a comfortable silence, but I had no doubt that the silence was better than anything we could have said. I didn't think telling him he had the sensitivity of a doorknob would make for great dinner conversation. Or we could have discussed what he thought he saw happen between me and Jacob. That discussion would have been a real winner.

Two-thirds of the way through my glass of wine, I was feeling a little light-headed. Edward was already polishing off his second glass. Maybe he was responding to the awkwardness, too. The server brought salads, which were delicious, although not substantial enough to keep the alcohol at bay. I should have stopped drinking, but drinking was easier than talking.

The main course arrived, along with what appeared to be a carafe filled with wine. It brought to mind the house wine at cheap Italian restaurants, but Edward's carafe was probably made of crystal. And his wine probably wasn't cheap.

I had no recollection of what we ate. I did eat some of it, though. I had no idea what we said; it was the stilted conversation of two people who were avoiding discussing anything substantive. I could recall with perfect clarity, however, what Edward was wearing. His crisp white shirt had two buttons open at the top. His suit was black. He had gold cufflinks that reminded me of the brassy tint to his bronze-colored hair.

As we went through the carafe of red wine, I started noticing other things. For instance, his fingers were like a surgeon's, long and tapered. I also concluded that the reason his hair was perpetually a bit mussed was due to an off-center cowlick. And when he concentrated on something, his eyebrows came together and made a vertical wrinkle on his forehead. He held his wineglass differently than I did; his hand was wrapped around the base while mine was wrapped around the stem.

He caught me staring, and I looked away quickly, my cheeks burning.

By the time dessert arrived, I was lucid but drunk. I half-heartedly tried to turn down the dessert wine that arrived, but it was tasty when paired with the chocolate soufflé. I told myself I would only take a couple of sips.

When I finished my dessert, I realized Edward was staring at me. My face burned as I felt my body responding to him.

"Finished?" he asked.

I bit my lip and nodded.

Suddenly Edward was at my side, offering me his hand.

I almost didn't accept it. After all, I was a big girl. I could stand on my own two feet.

Except I couldn't do it very well.

Even as he helped me up, the wine hit me like a ton of bricks and I swayed on my feet. My thoughts were clear, but they were loud in my head. I also seemed to be having fewer thoughts than usual. It was kind of nice.

"Easy, now," Edward said softly in my ear, his breath tickling my neck.

He led me up the stairs to his bedroom. The room was dimly lit with the light from one lamp. I expected him to set me on his bed and proceed to wipe away my virginity, but he didn't. Instead, he handed me a robe.

I took the silky robe from him, but held it at arm's length. "What is this for?"

"I thought we'd go outside and relax in the hot tub for a little while. You can change in my bathroom." He let go of me and then grabbed my elbow. "Why don't you take off those shoes first?"

I blinked. "I don't have a swimsuit."

"Your shoes, Bella."

I stepped out of my heels, and he was right. Standing was easier without the heels.

He watched me to make sure I was steady, and then he released my arm as he murmured, "I'll meet you out on the balcony."

I had no swimsuit, and Edward didn't act like that was a problem, so was I supposed to be naked under the robe? Was _he_ going to be naked? My heart started to race. Since we were going to have sex, we were probably going to get naked eventually, right? _So this is no big deal_, I told myself, repeating it to myself several times.

I stepped into the bathroom and shimmied out of my dress. I folded it neatly and set it on the edge of the bathroom vanity. I stood there in my undergarments, debating. This was my last chance to back out. There were a lot of sensible reasons to back out, but I'd spent my whole life being sensible and that didn't get me anywhere great.

Screw being sensible.

I giggled at my choice of words. I was literally going to screw being sensible.

I took off my bra and underwear and tucked them inside my dress. He didn't need to see those. I pulled on the robe, tied it tightly, and then realized I had no idea where the hot tub was. I didn't even know we had a hot tub. I concentrated hard, and then remembered that Edward said he would meet me on the balcony.

There was a balcony on the side of the house.

Edward's bedroom was on the side of the house.

His room must have a balcony.

The balcony must have the hot tub, or why else would he go out there?

I may have been a little tipsy, but my logical skills were superlative.

I walked over to where I thought the balcony was and ended up with my face in a rack of suits. This had to be a closet. I backed out and surveyed Edward's bedroom carefully. There were three more doors in the room, and one of them was the door we came in. It couldn't be that one. And it couldn't be the bathroom door. That only left a set of French doors as a possibility.

I opened the French doors and stepped outside. The tile was cold underneath my bare feet, and I shivered. It was spring, not summer, and it seemed insane to voluntarily get wet at night in the chill. I stood still, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the darkness.

"Bella," Edward's melodic voice drifted to me through the velvet night.

I shivered again, but this time not from the chill. I saw him then. There were no lights on the balcony, but the dim light in the bedroom and security lights out on the grounds put a glow about the silhouette of his head.

"You'll warm up once you're in the water."

I hesitated. Edward was naked in the water. My heart hammered in my chest. I was naked under my robe. We were going to be naked together in a hot tub.

"I can close my eyes until you're in the water, if that will make you more comfortable."

I didn't want him to think I was nervous about him seeing me, not after I told him us having sex would be no big deal. But it was kind of a big deal.

He saved me from answering.

"My eyes are closed," Edward said. "Come on in."

I couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not from this distance, but I would have to trust him.

I untied the robe and set it on a nearby chair. A big gust of chilly air ended any hesitation I had about stepping into the hot tub.

The water was heavenly warm as I sank into it.

Along the edge circumference of the hot tub was a large ledge, and I sat down on it. The water level came almost to the tops of my shoulders. I was still reveling in the warmth when I realized Edward's thigh was touching mine. Somehow, between me stepping into the hot tub and sitting down, he had moved so that he was sitting next to me.

My neck was warm, and I realized it was because his arm was behind me, spread out along the edge of the hot tub. When I turned my head, our faces were inches apart.

"I didn't know you had a hot tub," I breathed. I sounded like a complete idiot, but I didn't care.

He laughed, and the noise caused my stomach to flip-flop in excitement. The arm that was behind me moved slightly, and his hand wove through my hair. "Bella, there are many things you don't know about me."

"Then maybe we should talk more." The words tumbled out of my mouth, but I was looking at his mouth instead of his eyes. I could just determine the outline of his lips in the dim light.

He leaned away from me, moving so that we were no longer touching. "All right, let's talk."

_Oh, he thought I meant talk instead of other things. I'm an idiot._ I scooted along the bench until my body was up against his again.

I could see his lips again, and a crooked grin played on them.

He leaned closer to me, his lips at my ear, and said, "I thought you wanted to talk."

The timbre of his voice turned my insides to jelly. Unthinking, I turned my head and kissed him. His lips were soft and warm and I squirmed to get closer to him.

One moment, it was me kissing him, and then he was kissing me. He pulled me sideways onto his lap. I twined my arms around his neck, exploring his mouth with my tongue. He tasted of chocolate and alcohol. His hands moved over my body, making my skin tingle everywhere he touched. When his hands maneuvered my thighs so that I was straddling him, I wiggled against him. When I moved against him a second time, Edward stood up, taking me with him.

I wrapped my legs around him. The contrast between Edward's heat and the cool night air was dizzying, and I felt a rush of sensation. He carried us, dripping wet, back into his bedroom, and closed the door behind him. There were towels on a chair by the French doors, and he set me down and wrapped one around me before taking one for himself.

Once we were both dry, I dropped the towel and he pulled me into his arms. He kissed his way down my neck and along my collarbone, his fingers trailing over the skin of my back. I hadn't realized he was leading me, but the bed was up against the backs of my thighs. Edward pushed me back onto the bed, keeping his feet on the floor as he leaned over me.

That was the moment that took my breath away. Up until this point, I'd been focused on sensations and feelings. I hadn't really looked at Edward because, well, it had been dark. Here in the dim light, I could see him. All of him.

I'd never actually seen any man all the way naked before, not in person. If you put all the pieces of flesh I'd seen together, I'd seen Mike Newton naked when we were in high school. I could confess now that Mike had always reminded me a little of the Pillsbury Doughboy. Edward was not Mike Newton, not in the slightest. I knew it was impolite to stare, but I couldn't help it. When I managed to tear my eyes away from his chest, he was watching me.

Our eyes met.

I swallowed hard when I realized I could feel him, erect against my thigh.

"You're beautiful, Bella." His eyes roamed over my body.

"So are you," I said, utterly sincere.

He chuckled softly, and then lowered his head to kiss me.

One of his hands ran down my chest, over my stomach, and down to the juncture between my thighs. He ran his fingers along my slick folds, spreading the wetness around. As he kissed me, he gently rubbed two fingers in circles on my clit.

The sensation was pleasant, and I gave a small moan of approval into his mouth, willing his fingers to continue.

Edward's lips left mine and trailed down my neck to my breast. When he took one of my nipples into his mouth and sucked it, all of my sensations heightened. He changed the position of his hand on my clit, so that it was his thumb making the circles. Every part of my body was hot now. My muscles started to tense. I wasn't sure how much more I could take, and then he slid a finger inside of me. He moved it in and out slowly.

My thigh muscles started to shake.

He slid in a second finger, and his mouth left my nipple. Before I could protest, his tongue was where his thumb had been.

My body went from heated to aflame, and my muscles tightened and released, sending currents of pleasure through me. Edward's mouth remained on me, drawing out the pleasure. When my breathing evened out, he gently pushed me back across the bed and climbed up on top of me. The inside of my thighs was wet, and I felt bold. When he climbed over top of me, I reached out to touch his hardened length.

His cock jumped in my hand. My eyes darted to his, unsure if I had done something wrong. His eyes were heavy-lidded with what I hoped was lust, so I tentatively stroked him again. I would worry about how he would fit inside me later.

"Bella." My name fell from his lips as both a groan and a hiss of pleasure.

As I released him, Edward repositioned himself so that he was next to me on the bed, and then pulled me on top of him. One of his hands was wrapped in my hair, the other massaged my ass cheek. I kissed the sensitive spot where his neck met his shoulder, and I felt his muscles shift as he moved.

"What are you doing?" I asked, a little confused. We had a good thing going.

He held up a square foil packet.

"I'm on the pill."

"You are?"

"Uh huh."

I could see the cogs turning in his head, and for a split-second I was irritated he would doubt me. I almost said something, but he set down the packet and then his arm snaked over my back and through my legs. He stroked my wetness, and then thrust two fingers into me. I gasped in surprise.

As he moved his fingers in and out of me, he said, "We're going to try this with you on top. You're in control, okay?"

"Me?" Putting the virgin on top seemed like a dumb idea, but I didn't want to hurt his feelings by telling him so.

"I want you to kneel with your thighs on either side of mine." He withdrew his fingers and put his hands on my thighs.

I did as he asked.

"Do you feel me under you?"

I nodded. I had thought he was hard before, but I could feel him hardening further against me. I slid back and forth over him experimentally. I was still sensitive from his attentions earlier, and I felt so good that I could almost believe I could slide him right into me.

Edward put his arms on my waist and lifted me so that we weren't in contact anymore.

"I'm going to position myself, and then you come down onto me at your own pace."

I shot him a nervous look, and he smoldered back at me I wasn't sure how anyone could smolder in the face of my complete inexperience and uncertainty, but he did.

His tip was at my entrance. I was nervous, excited, scared. I came down a tiny bit. I had a pleasant feeling of fullness. I eased down a little further. Definite pressure, but still not bad.

Then I looked down and realized he was barely inside of me. Millimeter by millimeter, I sank down on him. The pain was sudden and stinging, and I instinctively froze. We stayed like that for perhaps a minute. Edward was completely still. The pain gradually became less severe, and I realized my body must be adjusting. I moved my hips experimentally.

Once I started a small rhythm, I realized his hips were lightly thrusting in time with mine. That gave me a thrill of joy. I was so uncoordinated on the dance floor, I had been certain that sex would be a disaster, but he and I were moving in perfect time together. It was even starting to feel a little bit good. My muscles relaxed, and things felt even better. I looked down at Edward and saw him watching me.

Before I could be embarrassed, we were in motion. Now, my back was on the bed, and Edward was over me, supporting his weight on his elbows, his face inches from mine. He thrust into me slowly, each time going a little deeper. I clung to his shoulders with my hands. I could feel him sliding in and out, and then he leaned back and lifted my hips, wrapping my legs around him. He thrust in again, and I cried out.

"Better?" Edward murmured.

"Mmm." I was no longer capable of speech. With each thrust, he was hitting a spot that ignited sensations I didn't know I was capable of. I whimpered.

As he increased speed, I stopped thinking entirely. I franticly kissed him everywhere I could reach, which was mostly along his neck, his chin, his ear. I ran my hands over his back, tracing my fingers over the play of his muscles.

He rolled us back over, taking a moment to rearrange my legs so that I was atop him as I had been before.

I moved tentatively, trying to recapture the rhythm that we had when he was on top. He rubbed my clit with one hand, and with the other he kneaded my nipple. I felt quivery again, and I had trouble keeping us moving together. Edward's fingers increased their speed, and I felt my muscles tense and release.

I shivered in pleasure, and then Edward's hands moved to my hips.

"Lean forward, Bella."

I leaned forward and Edward thrust in earnest. I felt the muscles in his arms tense.

He cried out, his eyes closed, and I saw his face change as he came inside of me.

I felt powerful and tender at the same time as I collapsed on his chest.

He was breathing hard, and there was a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead. We lay together for some minutes, both of our hearts beating lickety-split. When he pulled out of me, I felt a sense of loss. Something warm and wet was dripping out of me. Edward pulled a towel off the nightstand and tenderly wiped me clean. In that moment, I would have done anything for him. He reached over and turned off the light, then drew me to his side.

I nestled myself in the crook of his arm. I knew I should be tired, that it was time to sleep, but there was something I had to know first.

"Edward?"

"Yes, Bella?"

"Did you really close your eyes when I stepped out of my robe?"

"No."


	12. April 27 to May 5, 2008

**Author's Note: **Thank you movieandbookgirl for the beta.

**Chapter 12**

**Sunday, April 27, 2008**

**Edward**

My fingers ghosted on top of the sheet along the outline of her side. Her breathing was light and even as I listened to her adorable little snuffs; she was still asleep. I marveled at the profile of her sleeping face. It was smooth alabaster, all lines of stress and worry erased.

I was locked in an internal debate of whether I ought to be in the bed when she awoke. It was possible that my presence would embarrass her or make her feel awkward. It was equally possible that my absence would do the same. I didn't want her to be embarrassed, but I was unsure what action of mine would put her most at ease.

I withdrew my fingers from her side. Last night had been a monument to my self-control. I shifted slightly, never taking my eyes off of Bella's sleeping form. My self-control was still being tested. Here, in the warm cocoon of my bed, I was tempted to pull Bella to me and breathe in the sweet smell of her hair.

_Once_, I reminded myself. It was only supposed to happen once. Once was all it took to erase Bella's virginity and, according to her own special brand of flawed logic, thwart Murphy's Law. On my end, once was supposed to kill the sexual tension and purge impure thoughts from my mind. My thoughts weren't impure at the moment, but that was only because she looked so innocent while she slept. Or perhaps it was because she was almost completely covered by the sheet.

It was likely she would soon awaken. I glanced around the room. I'd tried to think of everything she might need last night, but I'd neglected to think about what she might desire this morning. Silently, and with as few movements as possible, I slipped out of the bed. I pulled on a pair of boxers and walked down the hall to her bedroom.

The purpose of being in her bedroom was to obtain her robe and slippers so she would have something to put on when she woke, but instead I found myself surveying the room with curiosity. Other than books stacked on the bedside table and some paper on the desk, the room looked exactly as it had the day she moved in. There was very little _Bella_ in this room at all, and I wondered if that was a reflection of her preference or if she felt her presence here would be too ephemeral to bother with decor. Her robe, the one I sometimes saw her wear in the mornings, was draped over the back of the chair at her desk.

While retrieving the robe, my eyes caught on a piece of paper on the desk that had writing on it. It didn't look personal. It looked like more of a grocery list than anything else, so I didn't experience guilt leaning in closer to read it.

The guilt came after I digested what I'd read.

Bella had made a list of things to do before she died; a sort of bucket list. I wasn't sure which depressed me most: that she'd made the list in the first place, that it was so short, or that the things on it were so pedestrian. I fixated on one particular list item, _jump off the high diving board_. That sounded trivial, since I used the diving board frequently, but then I remembered she couldn't swim.

I spied her slippers under her bed, picked them up and left the bedroom. The robe and slippers I laid out next to the still sleeping Bella. It would be better if the next time we saw each other, we were clothed, so I went into the bathroom to shower.

Upon my return, my bed was empty. Bella's robe and slippers were gone. I wasn't sure if I was disappointed or pleased. Our experience last night was a one-time thing, so it was good that she was gone. I didn't need to store away another image of her wrapped in my sheets.

As I walked down the stairs, the welcoming smell of coffee assailed my nostrils. She was in the kitchen, sitting at the bar where I had kissed her last week, drinking a cup of coffee.

"I thought you didn't much like coffee," I said, by way of greeting. It sounded a bit impersonal, perhaps, but there were no right words to follow what happened last night. If I sounded too pleased about last night, she would think I was angling to do it again. But sounding displeased about last night would doubtless hurt her feelings. I would have to be guided by the tenor of her tone.

"It's taking my mind off the headache." Bella's tone was as impersonal as mine, and I cringed.

Perhaps I shouldn't have had the server push wine at her. "I'm sorry. I thought things would go more smoothly if we…"

"You didn't pour the wine down my throat. It was my own stupid fault."

The conversation was degenerating at a rapid pace. I tried to rescue it. "Would you like something for breakfast?"

"I'll just have cereal." She left her seat and went over to the pantry. After a detour to the refrigerator, she returned with a bowl of cereal and a spoon.

I watched her out of my peripheral vision, wondering if she was sorry about what had transpired the night before. She didn't appear upset with me, but she didn't seem comfortable either. She hadn't ever been comfortable with me, not really, so perhaps things weren't so different between us.

I poured myself a cup of coffee to have an excuse to remain in her company. "Today is a supposed to be a nice day."

"It'll probably rain."

"It's supposed to be sunny and in the upper 60s."

Bella looked up from her cereal, her face a bit more animated. "Really?"

"It's a little chilly, but if we turn the heat lamps on, I think we could swim this afternoon."

Her face fell. "I can't swim, Edward."

"I know that. I'll teach you."

She gnawed her lip. "There's no point in me learning how to swim."

"Why not?" I knew what she was thinking, but I wanted her to say it.

"Given my situation, it seems pointless."

"So your idea of having sex to thwart death was all talk? You still believe you're not going to live past the trial?" For someone so concerned about dying, she spent far too much time worrying and not enough time living.

She blushed a fierce shade of red in response.

I sighed.

"I don't have a swimsuit."

"You must. I told Alice to make sure you had a couple when she took you shopping last month." Knowing my sister, Bella probably owned several swimsuits in an array of cuts and colors.

"You would really teach me to swim? You don't think it is a waste of time?" She looked up at me from under her lashes, uncertainty in her eyes.

I couldn't look away from her. My mouth said, "Meet me out there around 3:00," but my head said, _No time I spend with you is wasted._

She left me then, and disappeared into her bedroom. I spent the rest of the morning and early afternoon in the den, ostensibly working. Really, I was counting the minutes until it was time to swim.

It was foolish, teaching her to swim. Not the idea- because everyone should know how to swim. The foolish part was putting myself in proximity with a nearly naked Bella, after I had promised myself that once was more than enough. After hours of circular logic, I justified my actions thusly: I would be helping Bella conquer a fear. Perhaps one day she'd even go off the three-meter diving board. Never mind that I could have hired her a private swimming instructor.

Finally, the appointed time arrived.

She came down to the pool a few minutes late, wrapped in a towel. She looked nervous. Or cold. Or both.

The lamps had been on an hour and the water temp was set to 90 degrees. She would be fine in a few minutes.

She started to remove her towel. I dove into the water from the side of the pool to avoid any tempting views of her mostly revealed skin. I surfaced and swam to the shallow end. I stood up, and fixed my eyes on Bella's. Her towel was gone, and she seemed tense.

I tilted my head at her in invitation, and she made her way over to the steps that led into the pool. She took each step gingerly until she was standing waist-deep in the water with me.

I cleared my throat. "Do you know how to float?"

"In theory. I know they say that if you hold your breath you won't sink. But I sink."

"You won't sink."

"I've tried. I sink."

"Bella, I will prove to you that you float, but you have to trust me." I took her hands in mine, preparing to pull her with me into deeper water. "Do you trust me?"

Her mouth twisted into a wry grin. "Sure, why not? After all, I trust you with my life every day, right?"

I pulled her with me until the water was chest deep. I wanted it to be deep enough to prove she could float, but shallow enough that she could still stand.

"I'm right here in case anything happens."

"Let me guess, you know CPR."

"I'm Red Cross certified. I'm also a former life guard."

"Of course you are." Bella rolled her eyes. "You run a company, you're musical, you're trilingual. You can do everything but make toast."

"If the toaster worked…"

"Edward!"

I grinned. "Put your face in the water, relax, and let the water lift you up."

Bella obligingly put her face in the water, but she did not relax. Her body was rigid, and before she had a chance to float, she popped her head up out of the water.

Her breaths were small and fast, and her eyes were wild. "I'm telling you, I sink."

"What you need to know about floating is that not all of you will bob to the surface. Your head and chest will float. The rest of you will be somewhat below the water. Relax and let the water support you."

Again and again, she was too tense or she would stop herself before she even had a chance to float. She was too afraid of the water to let go of her fear. Each time she failed, I repeated to her my utter certainty that she could float, if she would only trust the water to sustain her.

At one point she snapped at me, "You can't put your trust in water!"

Her hair was flat and wet against her head, and water droplets were beaded on her shoulders. She had never looked lovelier.

"You can't float without water, so if you want to float, you need to trust the it."

She pursed her lips at me, and I thought she would make a witty retort, but instead she went back to her attempts at floating with renewed vigor.

It took the better part of an hour, but she eventually conceded that she did indeed float. She even agreed to try floating on her back, provided my arms were directly under her. Bella, eyes closed, completely at peace, trusting me to catch her if the water failed her…

**Saturday, May 3, 2008**

**Emmett**

I'd been loading the boat for the last hour, and finally, everything was set. Our vacation had only been two weeks long, but Rosalie had packed enough for ten people.

"Rose!" I called, projecting my voice so it would carry back to the house. She was hanging out in the whirlpool until the last possible moment, something about the stresses of traveling. It would be a long journey home, but it wouldn't be that bad because we were taking a private jet. I had hopes Rose would help me pass the time on the jet by doing more than just eating and talking. We knew from experience that the leather seats on the plane fully reclined.

Rose met me at the dock. Her hair was still a bit damp, and her eyes were sparkling. The island sun had given her a light tan, and I couldn't help but smile big at her.

"What?" she asked.

I snaked out an arm and wrapped it around her waist as I pulled her up against me. I kissed her forehead, her nose, and then her chin. "Nothing. You're so beautiful, I'm having second thoughts about leaving."

She laughed. "Oh, really? What about our babies? Don't you miss them?"

"Sweetheart, of course I miss them, they're pieces of my heart," I murmured against her neck. "But you, you're the reason my heart keeps beating."

She reached up and ran her fingers through my hair, and then rested her hand on the back of my neck. "Oh Emmett, you know we have to go home."

I nuzzled her neck and let my hands wander just under the hem of her shirt. "The plane won't leave without us…"

She batted my hands away. "It won't, but there aren't any sheets on the bed."

"The lack of a bed hasn't stopped us in the past."

"And it won't stop us today, once we're on the plane." She gave me a wicked grin. "So let's get moving."

The boat ride was uneventful, but the plane ride was fantastic. I had always thought nothing could beat Rose in a skirt, but from now on I was also going to give a big 'hell yes' to sweat pants. Easy on, easy off. Life didn't get much better than that.

With an hour of air time left, both of us were blissed out, chatting. I was never much of a talker, but she liked us to talk afterwards. And this vacation was about reconnecting with my wife and making her happy, so I was going to do whatever she wanted. I listened to her tell me about little things she planned to do with the girls when we got home, and a class she was taking on art appreciation. As the minutes ticked down and we drew closer and closer to home, my mind started to wander, and I thought about work. I probably had a billion messages. And that James guy, I still wasn't sure if he was dirty or not.

"Stop thinking about work."

"I'm not thinking about work," I answered, even though it was a lost cause. She knew me too well.

"You are. We're still on vacation. Think about something else until we at least get home with the girls."

"Like what?"

She shot me an impish grin. "Do you think Bella got Edward back?"

"Got him back for what? He pranked her?" That did not sound like my stick-up-the-butt brother at all.

"You are so dense sometimes." She rolled her eyes. "I meant, do you think Bella got Edward back in bed?"

I blinked several times rapidly. I had to be cautious, here. Rose could smell a lie better than a pair of dirty socks. "What do you mean, her plan to get him back in bed? They're engaged, aren't they?"

"You know how your brother is. After that gardener thing, he was giving Bella the cold shoulder. Bella said he told her he wouldn't sleep with her until she got Alice to forgive her."

I didn't like this at all. I'd taught Marie to stick as close to the truth as possible when she was undercover, because it was easier to remember, and because she was a piss-poor liar. Her name was Bella now, but she was still the same sweet girl who had trouble being untruthful. Just how truthful was she being with Rose?

"So when you told me you were helping Bella…"

"What did you think I was helping her with?"

"I thought you were helping her adjust, telling her about what a putz Edward can be."

"I did that too."

"I didn't think you were talking about sex." I don't know what I had thought Rose was helping with, but Bella had told me she was saving herself for marriage and I had told Edward to stay the hell away from Bella. Seemed pretty clear to me that they wouldn't be having sex.

"Of course I was helping her with sex. It's what I'm good at. Besides, haven't you been hoping Edward would finally find someone who wasn't a social-climbing bitch? You should be thanking me."

I mulled this over. My wife's logic was impeccable, as it always was, but Edward couldn't be having sex with Bella. He wouldn't. Especially not while I was out of the country…

Except if he were going to do it, while I was gone would be EXACT-A-FUCKING-LUTELY when he would do it.

I was going to kill him.

If he did it.

Under the guise of being interested in 'the welfare' of Edward and Bella's 'relationship' I pumped Rose for info and got an earful. It all seemed innocent until she got to the part about Edward kissing Tanya in front of God and everyone. It got worse from there, culminating in the part where Edward wasn't going to sleep with Bella again until she made up with Alice.

By the time we touched down, my vacation bliss had busted. My shit of a brother was going to pay if he had laid one unwelcome hand on Bella. And both of his hands were unwelcome.

We went straight from the airport to Mom and Dad's house to pick up our daughters. I had missed them, so I tried hard to keep myself in the moment with Libby and Emma as they jabbered away at us. I was somewhat successful, but I was still furious with my brother.

I was not a patient person. I was more action-oriented. But there was no way I could get to Edward today; it would have to be tomorrow. My family did not deserve my temper, so I tucked those angry feelings inside. I would save them for my brother.

Rose frowned at me from the passenger seat as we pulled in to the garage. "You're tense for a man who just got home from vacation."

"I'm fine."

I did my best to be my normal fun self with my girls, and when it was time for them to go to bed, Rose gave me her blessing to check my work messages.

I decided to check my phone messages first, because the email would probably take all night if I let it. Some of the messages were important. Most were not. One stood out. The North Carolina district attorney was calling to straighten out details for the deposition in the Volturi case. The real game was about to start. The deposition was when the Volturi would realize Marie Swan was still alive. She wouldn't be dead to them anymore.

**Sunday, May 4, 2008**

"You nailed her, didn't you?"

Edward didn't answer right away, and I knew he was guilty as sin.

"You did!"

He sighed at me, but his voice was firm, like he thought he could fucking tell me what to do. "This is not your concern."

"Like hell it's not." I slammed my fist down on his European antique coffee table and felt a small bit of satisfaction when he winced. "You just couldn't help yourself, could you? I could kill you right now."

"I assure you, she hasn't been an unwilling party to anything that has happened under my roof."

That was my brother, always justifying himself. I didn't think it was possible, but I got madder.

"I bet you didn't know she was saving herself for marriage. She was so fucking innocent and you had to go and ruin it."

"Emmett-"

I paced the living room furiously, until I was standing only inches from my brother. "I trusted you to take care of her. I fucking trusted you."

He didn't even flinch. "Why don't you go and ask her if she wishes you'd let her stay in a mental institution instead?"

I punched him. My fist connected with his jaw in a satisfying thud. "You have no idea how angry I am with you."

Edward rubbed his jaw, but he didn't back away. "Oh, I have an idea, all right."

"That little punch was nothing. _Nothing_ compared to how I want to pummel you." My jaw was so clenched it was hard to talk. "If you lay so much as one hand on her while she's in this house again, so help me I will beat you to a pulp."

"Did it ever occur to you that I might actually like Bella?" The last word trailed off as the air whooshed out of him as my other fist connected with his gut.

"Of course you fucking like Bella. Of course you like fucking Bella." I stepped even closer to him, so that I was almost right up against him. "I don't care if she begs you, stay away from her. I put her in your house, my brother's house, to protect her. It's hard enough to protect her from bullets, but at least I can try. There's jack shit I can do to help her if her heart breaks when she realizes that you're tired of her after two weeks."

"Don't worry," Edward said, "It won't happen again."

Bella chose that moment to walk down the stairs. She smiled when she saw me, but then frowned as she took in the situation.

"Is everything okay?" she asked as she approached us.

I nodded, because I didn't trust my voice. I looked over at Edward, daring him to tattle.

Bella's eyes swept from me to Edward. "I heard yelling. Were you two fighting?"

Edward stepped back from me and smiled for all the world like his jaw didn't hurt like hell. "Emmett and I have strong opinions about politics."

"Politics?" Bella said uncertainly, looking between the two of us.

"Emmett is a fan of Hillary Clinton, and I told him she needed to concede the nomination."

Falser words were never spoken, and I realized it was Edward's not-so-subtle way of telling me to fuck off.

"I'll, um, be out at the pool," Bella said.

"The pool? It's a little cold, isn't it?"

"Edward's teaching me to swim."

I shot him a meaningful stare. "How nice."

He smiled back at me blandly. "I'll meet you out there. Emmett will let himself out."

My hands fisted by my sides, but I wasn't going to make a scene in front of Bella. Edward turned his back to me and followed after Bella.

I didn't leave right away. Instead I stayed and watched the two of them from the house for a while. After several minutes of intent spying, I decided nothing was going to happen. He appeared to actually be giving her a swimming lesson. I suspected his motives for doing so were related to having Bella mostly naked rather than a general concern for her water safety, but there was no reason to drag him out of the pool. Swimming was a life skill, after all.

**Monday, May 5, 2008**

The first day back at work after a long vacation was always hard, and today was no exception. I was pulled in a hundred directions at once. I had a list of new witnesses to settle as long as my arm, and a bunch of administrative crap to handle on top of it.

I returned the call from the D.A. while I was away at lunch. I considered returning the call from the privacy of my office, but I didn't want to take any chances on anyone connecting me to Bella's case. When people found out she was still alive, the official story was supposed to be that I handed her off to another, anonymous agent since she had been compromised in our office. This was critical to her safety, and to my family's as well. She was so intertwined in our lives now that I couldn't afford to make one slip.

The deposition date was set: June 9, 2008.

Because of her witness status, Bella was not going to need to go North Carolina to give her testimony. She would, however, have to be sworn in. As an extra security precaution, we were having an off-duty judge present to take her testimony from an undisclosed building in downtown Portland. Portland was selected because it was a sizable enough city that if her location were discovered, it would be difficult to establish she wasn't actually there. Bella would change cars three times on the way there and twice on the way back. We would be disguising Bella's voice for the deposition since it would be taped. Bella didn't think disguising her voice would make a difference since they would know it was her, but we would take every possible precaution anyway.

I still had time left on my lunch break, and I was downtown, so I decided to give Edward a heads up. That way he could relay the information to Bella. The Cullen Foundation required business dress of all employees, so I drew a few stares when I reached the 23rd floor. I was a Cullen, though, so I imagined I would be written off as rude and entitled rather than suspicious.

Edward's secretary was not particularly welcoming when I demanded to see him immediately. She tried to tell me he was off-site. That would have worked, maybe, if he didn't have a clear glass window beside his door. He was definitely in his office.

"He's busy," the girl snapped.

"Did he tell you to say that?"

"No, but I know he's busy. And I know you punched him this weekend for no good reason. And frankly, every time you come here to talk to him you put us way behind schedule."

"He told you I hit him?"

"He came in looking like he'd been in a bar fight and I asked him if he pressed charges. He said you don't press charges against your brother." She pinned me with a glare. "Unless I'm mistaken, you're the only brother he has."

"You don't steal from family and you don't take them to court." I was about to give her more of the Emmett code of living, but her phone rang.

She picked up the receiver and listened for several seconds before saying, "Yes, sir." She glared at me. "Edward said you can go on in."

I stepped in his office, and saw that he was in the middle of lunch. The workaholic ate at his desk whenever he didn't have some business lunch to be at. There was an ugly shadow across the bottom right side of his face and a small cut. I glanced down at my hand and realized the cut was from my wedding ring.

"I imagine this isn't a social call," he said, and then took a bit of his sandwich. He pushed a red and white cardboard carton in my direction. "Chips? They're still warm."

I was still angry with him, even if I did feel a little guilty about his jaw. He had to know what he did was wrong. And he couldn't buy my forgiveness with a fresh potato chip.. But damned if I could resist a fried piece of heaven, so I ate one. I'd laughed at Edward when he'd bribed his favorite restaurant to set up shop in the same building as the Cullen Foundation, but now I got it. It would be fucking awesome to have a restaurant like this in the basement of my building. I wondered how much it would cost...

After I finished chewing, I got to the point. I filled Edward in on the details of my conversation with the D.A.

"What time will Bella and I need to arrive in Portland?" Edward asked.

"_You_ won't ever arrive in Portland, because I can't risk anyone seeing the two of you together."

"No one should see her with you, either."

"That's why I'll meet her in Portland." I was a little insulted he thought I would abandon Bella. He wasn't the only one concerned with her well being.

"If you're not going with her, then I am."

"She's my witness, Edward. I'm the boss."

"You might think that, but I've put an awful lot of time and effort and capital into making sure she's okay. I'm not going to let you send her by herself to Portland."

"I'm not going to send her alone, you dimwit."

Edward's eyes narrowed. "You're just going to send her with people who are unknown quantities. That's so much better."

I held back a growl. I was starting to wish I'd hit him harder when I had the chance. "I'm going to say this once. Once. Keeping witnesses safe is my job. I am extremely good at my job. Don't cross me."

Edward's jaw clenched, and I saw him wince a little. Good. I was glad his jaw ached. Maybe he would remember who was in charge. Last month I'd been so worried about Bella, it had been easy to forget that my brother and I were oil and vinegar when we worked together. I was older and had smarts gained from experience. He thought he was smarter than me because he read a few books. He never said it explicitly, but he didn't have to. Hell, even my parents thought he was smarter than I was. It didn't bother me, as a rule. I knew I was the smart one- I was the one with the beautiful wife, two precious daughters, and a job I loved. Edward was the one stuck running the family foundation and posing for publicity stills; he didn't even have a dog to go home to. I deferred to him on a lot of things, but there was no way I was going to endanger Bella just to pet his ego.

"Emmett-" he started.

I cut him off. "Tell Bella when the deposition is, and that I will make sure she gets there and back safely." He looked like he wanted to say something more, so I added, "This conversation is over."

I left, then, but not without grabbing another chip for good measure.


	13. May 4 to May 15, 2008

**Author's Note:** Lots of thanks are due: movieandbookgirl, Oxymoronic8, and Fate of Gabriel were all instrumental in helping me resolve some niggling plot issues.

**Chapter 13**

**October 10, 2002**

"Marie, I have some good news for you and some great news. Which do you want first?"

"Um, the good news?" I sat on the edge of my chair across from the Dean of Financial Aid, my paperback copy of _Macbeth_ in one hand, the strap of my backpack in the other. I was trying hard not to fidget.

"You were approved for another loan, and you were accepted into the work-study program."

"Thank you, sir." I smiled, relieved. I'd assumed I would be approved, until a secretary had called last week and insisted I schedule an appointment with the Dean of Financial Aid. Nobody I knew had ever talked to him. They got their financial aid information in the mail or over the phone.

"The great news, though, is that you won't need the assistance. You've been offered a scholarship."

"I have?"

"Yes. Volterra, Inc., has offered to pay your tuition, room and board, and a small living stipend."

"But I didn't apply for a scholarship with them." I'd applied for a ton of scholarships, so many that they all started to flow together, but surely I would have remembered a strange name like Volterra.

"They were probably connected to another organization you applied to."

"I guess. Do you know why they picked me?"

"Honestly? No. But you would be a fool to turn this down."

"What's the catch?" There was always a catch. If something sounded too good to be true, it was. My dad taught me that.

"The only condition of the scholarship is that you work there for three years after graduation."

"But I want to be a teacher."

The dean leaned forward across the desk so his head was level with mine. "Marie, this is a golden opportunity for a student like you. You'll have the chance to graduate without any debt and gain valuable work experience in the process. Teaching can wait."

"How many other students were offered this opportunity?"

He shifted back in his seat. "They recruit nationally, so I'm sure there were others. But you are the only one receiving the offer at our school. "

"Will I have to change my major?"

"Of course not. Volterra appreciates the broad base provided by a liberal arts degree."

"And you're sure they want me? This isn't some mistake?"

"No mistake. You'll just need to sign here." He smiled at me broadly and pushed a piece of paper and a pen across the desk to me.

**Sunday, May 4, 2008**

Someone was yelling downstairs.

My first paranoid thought was that the Volturi had come for me.

That was stupid, because if they were here, they wouldn't be yelling. And I would already be dead. More likely we were being robbed or something.

That wasn't comforting either.

I threw a cover-up over my swimsuit, grabbed my cell phone in case I'd need to call 911, and flung open my bedroom door. I dashed to the top of the stairs, trying to figure out the situation was before I stepped down into it. The yelling had ceased, but there were low voices, Edward and someone else talking.

It didn't sound like mortal danger, but I tucked the cell phone into my pocket just in case.

I took the stairs two at a time, and at the bottom I saw Edward and Emmett in the foyer. Relief filled me for all of thirty seconds. Thirty seconds was how long it took to realize they were standing way too close together and they were pissed at each other. Emmett was gesticulating wildly and his voice was low and menacing. His back was to me, and I couldn't quite make out what he was saying. I had the nasty feeling this related to me somehow, but I had no basis for that conclusion. I did have a rather egotistical habit of making everything about me. This probably was completely unrelated to me, but I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe it wasn't.

I moved steadily closer, and the first words I could make out came from Edward. He said, "Don't worry. It won't happen again."

Since they would see me any second, I decided to make my presence known. I cleared my throat. "I heard yelling. Were you two fighting?"

Edward flashed me a false smile and said something about them having strong feelings about politics. Right. I believed that the same way I believed that little green men lived on Mars. Emmett looked guilty, and there was a mark on the side of Edward's face that hadn't been there earlier.

When I had asked about them fighting, I meant _verbal_ fighting, but it looked as though real fighting might have been going on. Emmett was rubbing his fist. I looked between the two of them. They both seemed calm enough at the moment, but that could have been because I was in the room.

"I'll, um, be out at the pool," I said, finally, because Edward probably didn't appreciate my interruption, even if I was worried Emmett might pulverize him. Because Emmett wouldn't really hurt him badly, would he?

Once at the pool, I turned on the lamps and waited a few minutes. It was a nice day, but it still wasn't quite seventy degrees. The heating lamps needed a little time to work their magic. When I started to feel hot in my cover-up, I took it off and sat on the edge of the pool. I dipped my toes in the water and settled in to wait for Edward. It was our second swimming lesson. There was no way I was getting into the pool before he arrived.

As a heating lamp baked my back, my mind wandered over our interactions of the last week. Things between us had been different since we had sex. Not how I thought they would be, but different. I'd thought things would be either super awkward and we would avoid each other, or things would be great and we would have sex all the time. Neither of those scenarios had happened. We hadn't slept together again, but there was now a new sense of familiarity between us. We spent more time together, and casual touches had become the rule rather than the exception.

My virginity was gone. If I lived to be engaged someday, I would have to tell my future husband that I had slept with one other person. I tried to envision the conversation, to dread it, and I couldn't.

Because I wasn't sorry I slept with Edward.

Not at all.

I wanted to do it again.

And again. And again. And again.

But how could I tell him? I had been quite passionate about the fact that I wanted to lose my virginity in hopes that I would live to regret it. He'd generously offered to help out, albeit to keep me from sleeping with Jake, but I don't imagine it was a task he relished. No guy would want to be the person a girl regretted sleeping with. Maybe I could tell him that I didn't regret it quite enough, so we needed to keep doing it until I really regretted it? No. I needed to be honest. If I explained the situation to him…

But what would I say? _Edward, I know I acted like I only wanted to have sex once, but sex with you was so awesome I want to do it all the time. _Um, no. His ego didn't need boosting, and I would die of shame if those words came out of my mouth and he wasn't interested.

He came out of the house and strode across the lawn toward me. A towel was around his neck, and he wore nothing but swim trunks. Like always, he moved with natural grace; but there was something off. He was also walking faster than normal, though that could have been because he was cold and shirtless.

When he reached the pool, he didn't greet me; instead he dove directly into the water. There was little splash as he sliced into the water, but several droplets landed on my skin.

Edward surfaced. There was a shadow of a bruise forming along his jaw, and a small cut. Emmett really had punched him. I was stunned.

"Are you okay?"

"We'll work on treading water today."

"You're hurt."

"Get in the water, Bella."

"Edward, please tell me what happened."

"It's nothing."

"You're bleeding." My eyes pleaded with him.

He rubbed his jaw. "I did something that Emmett didn't like, and he handled it the way I knew he would. Fortunately, I don't think he broke my jaw this time."

I must have looked horrified. I hopped into the water and approached him.

He shied away, but I kept moving toward him. "Can I at least look at your jaw? Hold still."

I wasn't a doctor, and my only experience with injuries was having them, not healing them, but I needed to see he was okay. The cut wasn't bad. It appeared superficial. The shadow of a bruise, however, that was probably going to be ugly tomorrow.

"Let me get you some ice," I said.

Edward shook his head and shrugged away from me. "Let's swim, Bella."

**Monday, May 5, 2008**

Edward was at work. The housekeeper was vacuuming downstairs. Jacob and Seth were both outside. I was all alone, hiding in my room because I didn't want to talk to the housekeeper. The Internet was interesting, but my eyes kept darting over to the piece of paper off to my right, sitting on my desk.

My list.

It was short and small and somewhat of a half-hearted effort. I wrote it more because Jacob had asked me to than because I wanted to.

Everything I'd done since I arrived had been half-hearted.

A piece of me was missing, or maybe it was several pieces. I'd thought it was being here, in Edward's house, that was bringing me down, but the truth was that I hadn't been completely whole since my parents died.

Working for the Volturi had done nothing to fill that void. Memories of my employment flitted through my mind. I didn't want to remember, but I couldn't let myself forget. Not yet, anyway. I'd been living with the idea that any breath might be my last for months, and I'd let that serve as an excuse to cocoon away in Edward's house.

If these were my last moments, I did not want to spend them feeling sorry for myself.

I picked up the phone and did something unusual; I called Edward at work.

He picked up on the second ring, his voice tense. "What happened?"

I held back a smile. I called him so seldom that he assumed the worst. "Can't I just call to chat?"

"You want to chat?" Disbelief colored his tone, and it made me grin.

I cradled the phone on my shoulder, up against my ear. "Well, I've been thinking…"

"Go on."

"You were right."

"Of course I was. What about?"

"You said that living like I was going to die was no way to live." I paused, half waiting for a response that never came. Had our call been dropped? "Are you still there?"

"I'm here. I'm a little stunned that you've picked _now_ to listen to me, but I'm here." Edward sounded smug. "Did you call me just to tell me I was right?"

"You wish," I smirked, then caught myself. I wasn't sure when or how his cockiness had become more endearing than offensive, but it had. "No, I was thinking that I would like to do something meaningful with my time instead of rotting here at the house. Does the Cullen Foundation take volunteers?"

Edward didn't respond immediately, and I suddenly realized that it was probably a stupid question. Of course they didn't take volunteers; they were huge, and they were well funded. I remembered that from my visit last month.

"Never mind," I said, self-consciousness getting the better of me.

"No, Bella, I'm booked up today, but why don't you come to work with me tomorrow? We can go over your skills and find an area where you can help out."

We ended the call, and I put away the phone with a smile on my face. Things were definitely different between us; we were now capable of having a civil conversation in private. And if we could converse in private, maybe there were other things we could do someday. Privately. Without any weird conditions or bargains attached.

I spent the day preparing an elaborate dinner, and I texted Edward that it would be ready around 6:30. He came home early, worked out, and was showered and setting our beverages on the table at 6:25.

We sat down to eat together right on time, and it all felt quite domestic and pleasant. We fell into a debate about a book I'd been reading, and Edward's face was lit up with passion as he refuted my points. Little by little, his frosty façade with me was melting. The only blip during dinner happened when I asked how his day was at work.

He hesitated, and his brow furrowed. "It was fine, why do you ask?"

"You said you were booked all day. I thought maybe something interesting happened."

He sipped his wine and looked away. "Nothing of consequence."

Edward-speak was still a bit of a mystery to me, but I was pretty darn sure that _nothing of consequence_ translated to _something definitely happened, but I'm not going to tell you_. I was dying to ask him more about it, but this was perhaps the most relaxed we had ever been together. Interrogating him would wreck it, and I didn't want that.

I let him change the subject.

**Tuesday, May 6, 2008**

The suit hugged my curves, and the heels were too high for me to be truly comfortable, but for once I didn't care. I even put on make-up, though that was something I had to do every time I went out in public for security reasons. I took my heels off to walk downstairs. Then, at the bottom of the staircase, I held on to the banister to put them back on. Edward was drinking coffee and reading the newspaper in the kitchen. When he saw me, his eyes lingered on me a little longer than normal.

"You clean up nicely. Are you ready?"

I nodded, trying to will the heat out of my traitor cheeks. The tiniest compliment from him brought out my blush, and it was beyond embarrassing.

We had an easy conversation on the way to the office, and once we arrived, we picked up breakfast at a great little restaurant in the lobby. Edward took me up to his office. I sat down across from him, and the atmosphere between us changed. Behind the desk, he was Edward Cullen, CEO, and it made me nervous.

He must have noticed the changed dynamic, because he moved from his desk chair to the one beside me. Once he was next to me, he was Edward again and I relaxed.

"What kinds of things are you interested in doing, Bella?"

"I'm not picky." I tried not to look at him. We were comfortable and easy together last night, and I was pretty sure if I looked him in the eye I would be flustered.

"As ridiculous as this sounds, for how well I know you, I don't know you at all." His voice was simultaneously apologetic and coaxing.

"That's not true."

"It is," he insisted. "I don't even know what you majored in."

"Education, with a minor in English."

"But you didn't become a teacher?"

"No."

"What did you do for your… previous employer?"

I bit back a smile at the way he sidestepped mentioning the Volturi. "I, um, did a little of everything." Edward froze, and some emotion flickered across his face. My words could have been taken out of context, so I clarified. "Not _everything_, everything. My official title was executive assistant."

"So you scheduled meetings?"

"No, the secretary did that. I did whatever A-, I mean my boss, asked me to do." I looked away from him as I described my prior duties. "I sat in on meetings to take notes, I hosted guests, and I met and talked to a lot of people. I wrote reports and analyzed confidential data."

I prayed he wouldn't ask me to go into detail. Nothing I'd done was illegal—I was a police officer's daughter to the core—but I now knew that my activities had facilitated some of the Volturi's crimes. It churned my stomach, knowing that people I'd taken out to dinner and made polite conversation with were cold-blooded killers.

We sat together in silence for a few minutes. This was the most I had ever told him about my past. Would he judge me harshly?

Edward's tone was neutral. "You have a fairly broad base of experience, then, and a keen interest in education. Is that correct?"

"Yes." It sounded so professional when he said it.

"My mother is coordinating a huge charity gala for our national education initiative. Competent people are rare, and I'm sure she'd appreciate your help."

"Um, well, you really think so?" Esme didn't like me. Why would she? Sure, she was cordial to me, but Alice told her I slept with the gardener!

Edward flipped the phone on his desk around so that it was facing us. He pushed the speaker phone button and dialed.

He was not dialing Esme this moment. He wouldn't put me on the spot that way. The phone rang twice, and then I heard Esme's bell-like voice.

Oh yes. He did put me on the spot. I put my head in my hands and focused on breathing. Edward, in contrast, was leaning forward toward the phone, his legs spread slightly, his elbows balanced on his knees. "Hi Mom."

"Edward," Esme replied with a smile in her voice.

"Do you have a few minutes?"

"For you? Always."

"Bella is ready to start getting her feet wet in the Cullen Foundation. Nothing too visible. She's passionate about education and has some practical planning experience with small events. How would you feel about having her help for the education gala?"

"I think it's a marvelous idea. It will help me out and it will give her an opportunity to meet more people in the area."

Esme sounded sincere. She sounded so sincere. Perhaps she didn't hate me. Edward was grinning at me, with an expression that meant he wanted me to acknowledge that he was right.

"I'll let Bella know, and she'll call you later today."

"Wonderful. I'll see you soon, right?"

"Yes. Schedule something with Bella."

They ended their call. Edward was linking me in to his family, and I should have been upset. He'd shared things with his parents about me that were uncomfortable, and his parents had no reason to like me… but at the same time it kind of felt good to have a family again. Even if they weren't mine.

**Wednesday, May 7, 2008**

Esme was good company, which was a pleasant surprise. I expected her to interrogate me to try and figure out if I was good enough for her son. After all the things Edward had said about her, I anticipated a tornado of energy like Alice. She wasn't, though. She was definitely a force of nature, but she was more like a penetrating spring rain.

All morning, I shadowed Esme as she dealt with caterers, approved place cards, selected centerpieces, and in between everything managed to call members of the press to discuss the Cullen Foundation causes. It was awe-inspiring the number of things she juggled at once.

We sat down together to lunch and I was completely at ease. Then, suddenly, the direction of conversation went from canapés to commitment.

"How do really feel about marrying my son?"

I choked on my water. Some people would cough a little and be fine, but my water went down the wrong tube and it was a couple minutes before I could speak. My choking was its own kind of response to her question, so I decided to be as honest as possible.

When I could breathe again, I said, "It makes me nervous."

"Why?"

"My parents were divorced when I was young. Marriage is something my mom made me promise not to do until I was thirty, and I feel like I'm breaking a promise to her." My answer was a little too personal, but it was 100% true.

"Marriage is serious, but it is a very simple concept. All you have to ask yourself is if you want to spend your life with Edward." Esme gave me a wry grin. "And since you've already accepted his proposal, I have a feeling you've already given it some thought."

"You have no idea," I muttered.

Esme cleared her throat delicately and both of us ate for several minutes. I had ordered a pasta dish, thinking it would be easy to eat with grace, but it wasn't. The noodles kept sliding off my fork and falling back into the bowl with a plop, even when I twirled them around the tines. I should have been making polite conversation, but lunch required all of my attention. The last thing I needed was to spatter sauce on my white blouse. With my luck, I'd be covered in sauce and then we'd be photographed as we left the restaurant. Tomorrow's headlines would read something like 'Edward Cullen to Marry Slob. Why?'

"Bella, did you know that Edward's birthday is coming up?"

I was in the middle of chewing a bite of pasta, so that bought me a few seconds to wrack my brain for the date of Edward's birthday. I had the document of our history practically memorized. He was born in Chicago. His had a soft spot for chocolate soufflé. He was an ace tennis player. He was twenty-nine years old. If I thought hard enough, I could dredge up the day he graduated from Dartmouth, and maybe even the day he completed the MBA program at Harvard. _When was his birthday?_

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

"It's okay. When he told us the wedding date, I had a feeling he didn't tell you."

My mind raced. What could the wedding and his birthday have in common? Our wedding was June 20th next year. This month was May, Esme said his birthday was coming up…

"He's really not fond of his birthday. It wasn't a great shock that he thought it was okay to schedule your wedding right over it."

How could he have failed to mention to me that our fake wedding date was on his birthday? "I didn't know…"

"The only reason I'm bringing it up is that this year is a milestone birthday for him. He should have a party."

I gave up on the pasta and pushed it aside. I needed all of my wits about me for this conversation. "Well, if he pretends that his birthday is like any day, then he probably doesn't want a party."

Esme reached over and patted my hand. "Sometimes what Edward wants and what he thinks he wants are two different things. He is an important member of the community, and there are a lot of people who would like the opportunity to wish him well. Alice and I would like to plan a party for him, but we didn't want to overstep our bounds if you were planning something.

"Well…"

"We would love to have your help."

"Um… Does Edward know?"

"We thought it would be nice to make it a surprise party."

"He ought to have a say in his own birthday." I reached into my purse, looking for my phone.

"I'm sure he'd rather not be involved in the details," Esme said. "But I know that the party would mean so much more to him if he knew you had a hand in it."

WWEFD? I channeled my inner sense of what Edward's fiancée might do and came up with a big, fat dilemma. This was a no-win situation. If I helped plan the party, I risked Edward's ire because he was apparently allergic to his birthday. If I didn't help, I risked his ire indirectly, because Esme and Alice would be disappointed.

Finally, I decided. Edward's fiancée would not want to be on the bad side of her mother-in-law. She would help plan the party, but she would try and influence the party so it was as low-key as possible.

"I'd be happy to help, Esme."

She beamed at me. "Wonderful. Now about the wedding… I know I said we'd look at venues this week, but next week would work better for me. What do you say?"

**Thursday, May 15, 2008**

His arms were under me. The sun had set, and the stars were starting to come out. My arms and legs were submerged, but my head and chest were above the surface of the warm pool water. Every so often, a tiny raindrop would hit my face, but it didn't matter because I was already wet.

I was starting to live for our swimming lessons.

When Edward said he would teach me to swim, I thought we would have one lesson. Or maybe a weekly lesson. It started out that way, but now we had a lesson most days, no matter when he came home, because he said the best way to learn was through repetition. I was learning more than I had thought possible (though that wasn't saying much, because I was a total spazz where water was concerned), but I couldn't quite get the hang of floating on my back. Perhaps it had something to do with the way his arms circled underneath me as I practiced floating, or maybe it was how close to me he stood.

We both smelled like chlorine all the time now, but I didn't care.

We had developed a kind of routine. When Edward would deem our lesson finished, we would relax together in the water and talk for a while before going inside. It was something that had evolved between us and I loved it.

I stopped floating and my feet searched for the pool floor.

Edward dropped his arms, but he didn't move away from me. I smiled at him, and his lips curved up in response ever so slightly.

"How did I do?"

"Bella, you're floating on your own. You don't need me to help you."

"Maybe I like it when you help me."

This time he did smile, but he also pulled away. He moved backwards until he was up against the wall of the pool, and then put his arms up behind him along the edge of the pool.

"My mother sent an email to say that the two of you looked at wedding venues today."

"We did." If we had been in the house, a tense topic like our fake wedding would have escalated into something ugly. Here in the twilight, with swimsuit-clad Edward standing mere feet from me, it was impossible to be angry.

"Was it as bad as you thought it would be?"

"It really wasn't," I answered honestly. "Your mom told me about how you used to murder earth worms."

"I didn't _murder_ them." Edward ducked his head. Was he blushing? It was impossible to tell in this light. "I was incrementally increasing the earth worm population to improve soil quality."

"By digging up dozens of them and cutting them in half." I couldn't help laughing.

"I was four."

"Like that excuses it."

"This isn't fair."

"How not?"

"You're spending time with my mother, and she's telling you all kinds of dirty secrets. Who will tell me about you?"

I cocked my head at him. "I'm an open book. All you have to do is ask."

"Right." He smirked. "I don't even know your real name, but you're an open book."

"Ask me anything."

"How did a nice girl like you end up working for the equivalent of the modern-day mob?"

I shivered, even though the water was almost warm enough to be bath water. "Anything but that."

"That's what I thought."

"Well… you really want to know?"

He didn't answer, but his eyes met and held my gaze.

"They gave me a scholarship. The condition of the scholarship was that I had to work there for three years after I graduated."

Edward was still staring at me. "The Volturi paid your way through college? You didn't think that was strange?"

"It seemed legit." I shrugged.

"Are you still under contract there?"

I laughed, even though it wasn't funny. "Yep, but that's the least of my concerns."

"So it was just money?" His face was incredulous, as though he couldn't believe that I was in mortal danger over something as small as college tuition.

Of course he didn't understand. How could he? He was born into a different world than I was. I tried not to be irritated with him, but some of my irritation leaked into my words anyway. "You have so much money you don't even think about it, but for the rest of us, money is a big deal. Before I took that scholarship, my dad was cutting checks from his retirement account to pay to send me to school."

"Bella-"

"Can we talk about something happier? I shouldn't even be telling you this." _That, and I love our swimming lessons. Let's not ruin them by arguing._

Edward moved toward me and put his hands on my shoulders. "I think of us as friends. I want to be your friend. Why can't you tell me things?"

The sun was long gone, and I noticed darkness had settled across the sky. I took a deep breath. I needed to, because the moment he moved toward me breathing had become difficult. "I know too much to be safe. If I tell you things, then you won't be safe, either." Left unspoken was how very much I wanted him to stay safe.

His hands trailed down my shoulders and along my arms, and for a moment, I thought he was going to kiss me. I lifted my face toward his, hoping.

"We should go inside," he murmured, his hands still on my arms.

I was a little disappointed, but I hid it well. After all, I would see him again tomorrow night. We both wrapped up in towels and made our way back toward the house. Outside of the halo of heat lamps, the air was cold.


	14. May 17 to May 18, 2008

**Author's Note: **

WTVOC is a speed queen who made it possible for me to post tonight. Thanks muchly.

**Chapter 14**

**Monday, August 28, 2006**

"Aro has informed me that you will be working on projects of a confidential nature, so you'll have an office, which is rare for a new hire."

"Aro?"

Heidi smirked. "That's right. You haven't met him yet. Don't worry, you will."

It was my first day on the job, and Heidi had led me through a veritable catacomb of hallways before we stopped in front of a door with a nameplate that read _Marie Swan_. A small swell of pride washed over me at the sight of my name, even though I had no clue what I would be doing and no idea how I would find my office again once my 'buddy' Heidi departed. Moving out to Chicago on my own was a big step for me, but Mom had encouraged me, saying that Dad would have been excited.

Names and faces passed by me in a blur, and I tried to take note of things like the location of the ladies' room and the copy machine, but I was pretty sure it was a lost cause. It would take me weeks to learn my way around this maze.

11:00 A.M. found me sitting at my desk, staring at my empty email inbox, and wondering what on earth I was going to do with myself until 5:00. My office door was open, but no one had come by. With the notable exception of me, everyone seemed busy. It was cold in my office, and I found myself wishing I had gone with a twinset for my first day of work instead of a thin, broadcloth shirt. My shirt looked nice, but it wasn't warm.

There was a knock on the side of my door, and I gave a startled little sound and jumped. My cheeks went hot when I realized I sounded ridiculous. There was no reason to jump. I was perfectly safe in the office. A man dressed in an impeccable gray suit was standing in the doorway. His black hair was shot through with silver and his eyes were a disconcerting shade of hazy blue; his skin was even paler than mine. There was something unnerving about him that made my intuition prickle, but I couldn't say what it was. His proximity made my palms sweat.

"Ah, Marie. It's a pleasure to see you again."

Again? I'd never seen this man before in my life. Had Heidi introduced us? He radiated importance and I didn't want to offend him, so I just stared.

He sensed my hesitation. "How rude of me. Of course you don't remember meeting me; you were quite young." He walked over and held out his hand to me. His skin felt paper-thin and smooth against my clammy palm, but the grip he had on my hand was like a vise. "I'm Aro."

I extracted my hand from his and looked him in the eye. "When did we meet?"

"It's of no matter. The important thing is that we're both here now. You have a very bright future with us, Marie."

**Saturday, May 17, 2008**

My knees buckled under me. The world tilted, then righted as a set of strong arms propped me upright. I leaned my head back onto the chest of my savior.

"I'm taking this one home." Edward's voice rumbled in his chest as he projected it out to our fellow partygoers; the vibration was soothing. People smiled at us, and I smiled right back without hesitation, even though they were strangers. I hated parties because I never quite fit, but tonight had been different. I was with Edward, and everyone was super nice to us. Earlier in the evening I'd wondered if the guests were unusually nice or if they were sucking up to us. Now I was tipsy enough that I no longer cared. I wondered what life must be like for Edward. He'd always been rich. Did it bother him, not knowing if people liked him or his money?

Edward shifted me from his front to his side, and made easy conversation with a couple whose names I couldn't recall while the hostess instructed the butler to fetch our jackets. They materialized, and mine ended up on my arm instead of on me. It didn't matter, because the buzz from all the champagne had given me a pleasant, cozy feeling… a feeling that was enhanced by having Edward's arm around my waist.

Without any conscious effort on my part, the car door was opened and I was settled into the cool leather seat with a seatbelt on. The whisper-quiet engine purred as the car started and we were on our way home.

Somewhere along the way, I'd started to think of Edward's house as home. It was a little disturbing, given the temporary nature of our relationship, but there was no need to ponder such weighty things right now. My attention was drawn to other things, namely the strong line of Edward's jaw. He had a very nice jaw. How had I never noticed it before?

He glanced over at me and flashed a smile. "Have a good time?"

"Um-hum," I answered articulately. That was how I'd never noticed his jaw. His smile was dazzling. My fingertips stroked the leather seat beneath them. The texture was buttery smooth. "This is a really expensive car, isn't it?"

"You're going to crash the moment we get home."

"Nuh-uh. I am relaxed, not sleepy." I turned my head so that my cheek was against the seat, enjoying feel of it against my cheek. So smooth.

"If you say so."

The rest of the drive home was spent in quiet contemplation. I wanted to talk, but I didn't want to sound like I was drunk when Edward was so obviously not drunk. Instead I focused my attention on the numbers on the speedometer and on the way Edward's hand manipulated the gear shift. I never thought of hands as sexy, but Edward's hands were so capable. We pulled into the garage and he helped me out of the car.

The lights were on in the house and everything seemed a little too bright. I cringed at the light, and Edward smirked at me. "Go on up to bed."

I shook my head. "I'm not tired."

"If you don't want to sleep, what do you want to do?"

Whoa. That was an open-ended question that I was afraid to answer. My mouth worked, but no sound came out.

He chuckled. "That's what I thought. Let's get you upstairs."

"Truth or Dare."

"What?"

"I want to play Truth or Dare."

"Bella…"

"Don't you want to play with me? But you have to turn down the lights." I walked over the couch and curled up on the corner cushion, not bothering to see if he was following.

The lights dimmed. He sat down across from me and handed me a glass filled with something fluorescent.

"Gatorade. You should drink it."

I nodded, because that seemed appropriate. After I took a cautious sip, Edward grinned at me. He leaned forward in his chair, and a lock of hair fell over his eyes. Because I was way too mellow, I reached forward across the coffee table to brush it out of his eyes.

His eyes caught mine as I drew my hand back. "All right. I'll play. Which do you want, Bella, truth or dare?"

"Why do you get to go first?"

"Because this game was your idea."

I was crazy. I hated Truth or Dare. Wasn't it a game you were supposed to play with a lot of people? Games like this always ended with me being humiliated. "Maybe we should play Crazy Eights instead."

"You lured me over to you with the promise of Truth or Dare and now you want to switch to a game made up for five-year-olds?"

"It's fun for everyone, not just kids." Best of all, I was a champion Crazy Eights player. It had to be one of the only games where I would feel confident I had a chance of beating him. Crazy Eights and pool.

"Upstairs. Come on. I'll help you up."

I wasn't ready for the night to end, and the couch was insanely comfortable. "Okay, I pick truth."

Edward hesitated, probably still deciding if he should insist I go to bed. "How old were you when you learned to ride a bicycle?"

"That's your truth question? That's almost insulting."

"All right, then. What happened with the Volturi that you decided to testify?"

"I learned to ride a bike when I was six. My dad taught me. He promised me he wouldn't let go, but he did, and I went a whole block before I crashed."

"This is why we can't play Truth or Dare, Bella. You either can't or won't tell me about you."

"You act like this is all on me."

"It is."

"Then tell me why you kissed Tanya in front of God and everyone when you were supposed to be pretending to be my fiancé?"

"But you didn't ask me if I wanted truth or dare."

I swirled the Gatorade in the glass. "Truth or Dare, Edward?"

"Dare."

"Of course," I huffed. It was easy to pick a dare after he'd already heard the truth question. I needed a way to even the playing field. "All right… I dare you to drink until you're as tipsy as I am."

Edward wordlessly stood and went into the kitchen. He came back with a bottle of what was presumably some kind of liquor and two shot glasses.

I asked, "What is the second glass for?"

"You."

"No way. I've had enough."

"First, I don't drink alone. And second, you're sobering up. I haven't been drunk in years. If I'm going to do your dare, then I'm taking you with me."

It was true; I was sobering up a bit. Me sobering up while he got drunk was part of my nefarious plan to get to know him better. But if he wouldn't drink unless I did, then wasn't seeing him while I was drunk better than not seeing him at all? I was pathetic. I would do anything to stay in his presence a little while longer.

I eyed the shot glass dubiously. "What is it?"

"Tequila. Are you along for the ride, or not?"

"I'm in. Don't we need salt and limes and stuff?"

"Not with decent tequila." Edward downed four shots in quick succession.

Four shots would have put me under the table, but he shook them off. He didn't look drunk at all, but I wasn't sure what drunken Edward looked like. He poured himself one more shot and then he poured one for me. As he lifted the bottle away from my shot glass, a little bit of liquor splashed onto the table. The smirk on my face was irrepressible. No matter how composed he looked, he had to be feeling those shots.

"Bottoms up," he said, waiting for me to pick up my glass.

* * *

**Edward**

I closed my eyes. The liquid burned my throat going down, but not as badly as I expected it would. One shot was plenty for me. When my eyes opened, that foggy tipsy feeling was back full force. Someone was giggling, and it wasn't Edward.

Bella polished off her shot and then giggled maniacally. Perhaps she'd giggled a few times in the time I had known her, but this sense of hilarity was new. I liked it.

A lot of things about Bella were new lately. When I met her, she was too nervous and too thin. Those were qualities that seemed in line with a scared witness. Then I went to Haiti. When I returned, she had wasted away to hollowed-out cheekbones and deep, dark under eye circles. She never volunteered what happened while I was gone, and I never asked. She would tell me if she wanted me to know, and she never said a word.

The difference between Bella now and last month, or even the Bella who arrived at my house, was marked. She was still too thin, but her eyes sparkled. Her shoulders didn't hunch forward anymore, and she seemed comfortable going out on the town with me. And just now I'd heard her giggle.

We were playing Truth or Dare. And we were drinking. It was a stupid idea, as was anything that dropped my inhibitions with Bella. She had kicked off her shoes and was snuggled on her side in the corner of my sofa. Her skirt had ridden up, and the creamy skin of her thighs held my attention.

Bella snapped her fingers in my face, startling me. "Hello? I said I want a truth."

I was feeling magnanimous, and I wanted to know her better, so I tossed her an easy question. "If money were no object, and you could go anywhere, where would you go?"

"Hmm," she said. Her eyes closed, and she looked beautiful. "Somewhere sunny and warm."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

"So I could take you to LA, and you'd be happy?"

"I said sunny, not smoggy. I don't want to be in a city." She paused, her eyes still closed. "I guess I want to go to the beach. Not to get in the water- you know how I feel about that- but I'd like to feel sand between my toes."

"I bet you would enjoy the water more than you think. You've got floating down."

Her eyelids opened, and she gazed at me. "But don't you need to swim? The water has waves and currents and stuff."

"There are places where the water is like glass; smooth and clear. It's a whole separate universe, and it's utterly peaceful when you're beneath the surface."

Bella was staring at me. "You love the water, don't you?"

"I think you could love it too. There's something cathartic about letting yourself relax completely and trusting that the water will keep you safe."

"It's hard to trust in something that could drown you."

"You wait. I'll take you somewhere and prove it to you."

"Maybe someday," she said with a sigh that I recognized all too well. She sighed that way when she considered her mortality. "Well, Edward? Do you want another dare?"

"Give me a truth this time."

"How many girls have you had sex with?"

It was such an un-Bella question to ask, but we were drinking. I frowned. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm the one asking the question, Mister. You don't get to ask for my logic."

"Counting you?"

"Yes, counting me." Even in the low light, Bella blushed fiercely. Even drunk, she blushed.

"Thirteen." I wondered if she would think that number was high. Considering my age, relationship status, and my family's money… I was almost a monk. I was certain Emmett had slept with that many girls in high school alone. The tequila was making me feel almost chatty, and I had to press my lips together to keep from elaborating for Bella. For instance, she probably didn't want to know that I turned down anywhere between ten and twenty women in an average week.

"You're kidding." She sat up, and I saw her sway a bit.

I reached forward to steady her. My fingers brushed her arm and I examined her face to see if her disbelief stemmed from concern that thirteen was high or concern that it was low. "Are you okay?"

"I was number thirteen?"

I counted them out again in my head. I wasn't sure how to respond. "What's wrong?"

"We've talked about my luck. It stinks. And thirteen is an unlucky number, and it just. I mean. Of course I would end up as number thirteen when I'm trying to outwit fate." The words tumbled out of her mouth in a rush, and I realized I still had my hand on her arm.

"Have you really only slept with thirteen people?"

"Are you doubting me?" How could she think I would lie in a game of Truth or Dare?

"Well, it's just. I thought you'd dated a lot of people. Rosalie said…" her voice trailed off, probably because she noticed how irritated I was. Or maybe she noticed that I'd somehow moved from the chair to the couch and I was now sitting next to her.

"Dating isn't the same thing as sex." I brushed her hair back behind her ear so I could see her face better. "Believe it or not, I don't report back to Rosalie about my sexual history."

Her eyes were wide and dark, and we were close enough that I imagined I could feel her breath on my neck. I needed to stop thinking about her neck and her hair and her skin.

"Truth or Dare, Bella?"

I watched her throat move as she swallowed nervously. "Dare."

What could I dare her to do? I didn't want to give any dare that would hurt her, embarrass her, or make her uncomfortable. That left few options. I thought back on her bucket list, and then I smiled at her. "All right. I dare you to do something you've never done before. I dare you to jump off the diving board outside."

Her eyes went wider, and the white was almost visible all the way around her iris.

"It's okay to be scared. I'll be right there."

"I can do it, but, um, it's not something I've never done before."

Horror filled me. She could barely swim. Why would she have jumped into the pool without me? "What were you thinking? You could have drowned!" My voice was too loud, and it rang in my ears.

Bella's lips pursed and she looked sheepish. "I was fine. This was weeks ago, before our swimming lessons started."

That stung. "You were pretending not to know how to swim? You could have just told me…"

"No! Edward, listen. I made a list of things to do before I died, and one of the things was to jump off that stupid diving board. So I did. Jake jumped with me because I couldn't swim."

That stung more. Because I needed to, I poured myself another shot of the Herradura Reposado. And one more for good measure. I was aware enough to realize I was now thoroughly plastered. Bella was staring at me, alarmed, but my anger dissipated along with what was left of my sobriety.

"Why do you trust the gardener and not me?" The voice was whiny and it didn't sound like mine, but the words came out of my mouth. I watched closely for her response.

Bella put her warm fingers on my cheek and giggled. "Edward, of course I trust you."

"Then why did you tell him about your bucket list but not me?"

"It was his idea, so of course he knew. And I didn't tell you because the stuff on it was stupid and I didn't want you to think I was stupid."

Her hand was still on my face, and I rubbed my cheek against it. She brought her other hand up to cup my face. We both leaned forward. Our noses touched. I wanted to kiss her, but I'd promised myself I wouldn't. But if she kissed me, how could that be my fault? I tapped my nose against hers, hoping she would close the last inch between us, but she didn't.

"You're drunk," she murmured.

"So are you." It was possible she was less drunk than I was.

"If I jumped into that pool, would you really be able to save me? Because I couldn't float or swim to save my life right now."

"What if you jumped in the hot tub instead?"

"It's not very deep."

"I know."

"All right." Bella pulled away from me and stood. The absence of her warm presence left me chilled and I regretted suggesting anything that moved her from my side.

She walked up the stairs slowly, holding on to the railing. I walked up behind her, watching the sway of her hips. She went straight to my bedroom and out onto the balcony without hesitation. I flipped on a light and then pulled the cover off the hot tub, a task that was infinitely easier when I wasn't blitzed. I almost fell into the tub when I realized Bella was taking off her clothes.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm not jumping in with my clothes on, that's stupid." She rolled her eyes at me. "Relax. It's nothing you haven't seen before."

There was a splash; Bella was in the water. Dare fulfilled.

"Ummmm," she purred, "this feels wonderful. Do I have to get out?"

"Well," I said, trying to will my eyes away from her chest which was barely below the surface. The water moved around her, sometimes completely covering her breasts, sometimes revealing the tops of them. "I guess not."

"It's your turn. I think you should pick a dare." She spread her arms out behind her along the edge of the hot tub, making her chest more prominent.

I had forgotten we were playing a game. Her nudity was distracting in the extreme. "Dare, then."

Bella grinned up at me. "I dare you to take your clothes off and come into the hot tub with me."

Edward Cullen never backed down from a dare. Ever. I stripped and was in the hot tub in thirty seconds flat. Never mind that I almost tripped over my pants in my rush.

It did feel good. "This does feel good." I sounded like an idiot. Small waves rippled across the surface as I sat down in the water. I watched as they traveled across the surface and lapped against the top of Bella's shoulders. The hot tub was more intimate than the living room. The small space was own private bubble, and more than that, we had been here together before.

"I told you," she said.

"You were right."

"Say it again."

"You were right?"

"You know you've never said that to me before?"

"You're silly."

"You just called me silly."

"I know that. I said it, didn't I?" Our conversation was devolving into inanity and all I wanted was to move closer to her and shut us both up. It didn't help to remember how things had gone the last time we were in the hot tub together.

"I want a truth this time," Bella said, leaning toward me. "Because I really don't want to move."

Her thigh touched mine. The water was warm, but the point of contact where her thigh touched mine was warmer still. Apparently she had moved. Or was it me who had moved? There was quiet for several seconds before I realized she was waiting for me to ask her a question. I let my fingers twine into her hair because it felt natural.

"Was having sex what you thought it would be?" It was a second before I realized I'd asked that aloud. My whole plan had been to ask questions to find out more about her and what she liked, but somehow I turned it into something dirty.

Her teeth gnawed her lower lip and she looked up at me from under her lashes. I thought maybe she hadn't heard me, and I got ready to ask a different question.

Then she whispered, "It was better."

I closed my eyes, suddenly grateful for all the alcohol slowing down my system. Because sober, I would have had her in my bed two seconds after those words left her mouth. The water between us was caressing us both, and for a moment, I allowed myself to pretend we were touching each other everywhere.

When I didn't respond, she spoke, her voice soft and low. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth." I was incapable of leaving the hot tub with her close to me like this, but I did open my eyes. I dropped my hand from her hair, because each second I held it there tempted me.

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we had sex again?"

Her eyes were dark pools I wanted to drown in. It was a mistake to answer the question, but I did it anyway.

"Yes."

She seemed surprised. "Really?"

"Do you?"

She nodded.

Bella was going to be the death of me. Because Emmett would murder me. "I can't take advantage of you when you're drunk."

"But you're drunk too."

"Bella, I like you. But we can't."

"Why not? Everyone thinks we're engaged."

"Not everyone," I muttered, thinking of my brother.

"Sorry, I just thought maybe… oh never mind."

That hurt look on her face pained me. Maybe she only wanted me because she was drunk, but she did want me and she did feel rejected. I couldn't have that.

I moved close to her again. "You're right. But the timing is all wrong."

"Nobody knows how much time they have, Edward."

"You need a safe place to be. Safe is not me taking advantage of you."

"But…"

"Shh," I said, putting a finger on her lips. If she said too much more, it would make it impossible for me to sleep tonight or any other night, assuming I managed to remember tonight's events. I moved to the far side of the hot tub, and the water lapped between us instead of toward Bella. We hadn't brought towels outside; I hadn't been thinking. If I had to watch her stand, the water dripping off her body in rivulets running from her shoulders to her… "Wait here."

I stepped inside and wrapped a towel around myself. I then took several towels for Bella. I turned my back as she exited the hot tub. Thinking about her body, wet, was more than I could handle. I didn't need to see it.

We stepped inside my bedroom, and I glanced over at my bed. My head was starting to ache and my stomach churned, and I wanted nothing more than to climb into my bed. With Bella. I looked over at her and realized she was looking at my bed, too.

"We should get you into bed." Only after I said it, did I realize how it sounded. "I mean, into your bed."

She nodded. I walked her down the hall to her bedroom door.

**Sunday, May 18, 2008**

My mouth tasted like ass.

I rolled out of bed and onto the floor. I was a little surprised to land on the floor.

It was when I stood, though, that I realized I wasn't merely hung over. I was still a little bit drunk. Ugh. The incessant pounding in my head was growing louder and louder. There was even some yelling.

That wasn't just my head.

I groaned, threw on a t-shirt, and stumbled down the steps. Only one person would bang on my door and yell at this hour on a Sunday morning, and he was the last person I wanted to see. If it were anyone else, I could ignore them and they would give up and leave, but not Emmett. I grudgingly threw open the door before he could wake Bella. It was cloudy, but I squinted against the brightness.

"What are you doing here?"

"Visiting you. Let me in." He pushed past me into the foyer, hitting my shoulder on the way in. That jolted my neck, which moved my head, which almost bought him a round of puke on his shoes. There was a reason I didn't get sloshed like this, and it had everything to do with the morning after.

I closed the door and Emmett examined me. "You're pasty. You're always pasty, but you look extra sickly this morning. What did you do? Drink a river of vodka?"

The imagery his words brought forth was unappealing in the extreme. "Can we please not talk about alcohol or drinking or eating? Also, I would appreciate it if you could use your indoor voice."

Emmett's laughter boomed throughout the foyer, intensifying my headache. I wanted to slug him, but I wasn't steady enough to do that in my current state. I would get him back, though. Later. He was my brother and I loved him, but I didn't have to like him. My jaw didn't like him at all.

"What the hell do you want?"

Emmett's eyes scanned the living room. He was looking for Bella.

"Bella's still sleeping."

He frowned. "I guess I should have called."

"I've long since given up expecting basic courtesy from you." That was the understatement of the year, especially considering that he didn't know what the term _indoor voice_ meant.

"Yeah, well, don't get me started on things I've given up expecting from you. It's burning daylight. When do you think she'll be awake?"

"I have no idea. And before you talk to her—no, I didn't tell her about the deposition date."

"Damn it, Edward. What the hell is wrong with you?" He was almost yelling.

I gritted my teeth, desperately wishing for his silence. I backed a few feet away from him so his voice would be further from my ears. "There is nothing she can do to prepare for the deposition. Nothing good will come of telling her."

Emmett stalked into the kitchen. He took a beer out of my refrigerator, glared at the label, and then banged it on the kitchen counter to open it. He did it to annoy me, because he knew I didn't like scratches on the granite. Or maybe he was trying to make as much noise as possible. He carried his beer into the living room and sat down in my chair, again to annoy me, and settled in to wait.

"There is such a thing as a phone, you know. You don't have to wait here until she wakes up." I had a compelling urge to evict my brother from my chair, but it was rivaled by an equally compelling urge to have some Gatorade, a bunch of aspirin, and go back to bed. I settled for glaring at him.

Emmett's hands were behind his head and leaned back in my chair. His boots hit my coffee table with a thud as he put his feet up. "Oh, I think I do. From now on, I want to make sure she hears things firsthand."

"She doesn't want to know. I know her better than you do. Why can't you believe that I'm right?"

"It's her _life_, Edward. She deserves to know. She's a big girl."

"She'd be better off not knowing."

"Maybe she would. But it's not my job to play God, and it's not yours either."

Emmett was going to tell her, and I couldn't stop him. It was a moral issue for him; he thought it was the right thing to do. But he didn't understand. He hadn't seen her, broken, like I did last month. He didn't how much she thought about death. When he told me about the deposition in my office that day, I had planned to tell her up until the moment she called me at work to ask about volunteering for the Cullen Foundation. It was the first time I'd heard her express an interest in living, and I wasn't about to crush that.

The sparkle was back in her eyes, and Emmett was going to obliterate it.


	15. May 18 to May 20, 2008

**Author's Note: **

Sorry the chapter took so long. I know I promised it a while ago, but a lot of things happened all at once. This one is not proofed and edited to my usual standard, but given my current state, it was unavoidable.

A big thank you to gallantcorkscrews for giving this chapter a last comb-through.

**Chapter 15**

**Monday, September 25, 2006**

My hands rested on the keyboard. My eyes stared at the computer monitor. My mind was somewhere else completely. Another day, another report to write.

So far, as part of my glamorous employment with Volterra, I had done the following: A) written reports, B) attended a few meetings, C) written reports, D) gotten lost on the way to my office four times, and E) done research so I could write more reports.

Not that I minded the writing. What I found upsetting was that no one but some creepy guy named Felix wanted to talk to me. I wasn't the only 'new hire,' but I was the only one with an office, and that set me apart from everyone else. I'd never fit in while I was in high school, and though I had friends in college, I always felt a little as if I were on the outside looking in. Here, in Chicago, it was supposed to be a fresh start for me, but my own employer was setting me up to be isolated.

It shouldn't have surprised me, really. It was a known fact that Marie Swan only had luck of the 'bad' variety.

What was even worse was that I was in a separate wing from everyone else, a wing that housed offices for people who were almost never here. Heidi's office was down the hall, but I'd seen her only twice since that first day. I would see Aro on occasion, and he would stop in to talk to me for a few minutes, but I'd never even seen either of the other head honchos. When I asked Aro about them, he smiled and said that in a family business, some members worked harder than others. Then he added that, to be fair, they did travel often and so I would see them only rarely.

Four months ago, I was huddled in a corner of my apartment studying. Now I was huddled in my cold, windowless office writing reports about other businesses for my employer. And, after almost a month on the job, I still didn't know what Volterra _did_. I went to our website. It was available in five languages. The front page had a landscape with trees and a gurgling brook, complete with sound effects. None of the content was the least bit informative.

"Marie, I'm delighted to catch you in the office."

I whipped my head around and saw Aro, leaning in the doorframe, watching me. The man moved with uncanny quiet. How long had he been standing there?

"Aro, you surprised me." I forced a smile onto my face for him, even though he creeped me out. "I didn't know you were here today."

"Just arrived, Marie. Just arrived. I'm afraid I've been a bit remiss with you. Why don't you come with me, and we'll go have some lunch?"

"It's a little early for lunch…" It was 10:27. I knew this because not a minute went by without me looking at the clock. Nowhere would be open for lunch except McDonald's.

Aro threw his head back and laughed. Not the response I was expecting.

"Marie, you are a darling, aren't you? So practical, but so much to learn." He inclined his head at me and stretched is mouth into a smile. "Come along."

**Sunday, May 18, 2008**

**Emmett**

Edward stalked up the steps.

I kicked back and drank my beer, my feet on Edward's precious coffee table, settling in to wait for Bella. It went against my grain to drink this foreign shit, but it was all my little brother was stocking now that I had fallen out of his good graces.

Gee, I couldn't imagine why he'd be pissed at me. He was like a kid in a toy store, and I was the parent, telling him no.

After a while, when I was sure Edward wasn't coming back down, I took my feet off the coffee table. Having my feet up wasn't as comfortable as it looked because there was a ridge on the end of the table. Design flaw, if you asked me. I was well into my second beer when Bella came downstairs in a skimpy set of pajamas. Her hair was a mess and her eyes were bleary.

She squinted at me in confusion, "Emmett? What are you doing here?"

"I'm glad to see you, too, Kiddo."

She winced at me and put a hand over her ear. She got trashed last night, no question. "Is Edward here?"

"He let me in and then went back to bed. He looked worse than you do." I kept my tone neutral, but inside I was peeved. The Marie I knew didn't drink, but _Bella_ went out and got smashed with Edward.

She nodded and staggered into the kitchen, rummaging in the pantry, no doubt looking for a painkiller. She returned a couple of minutes later, sipping a glass of water and sitting across the room from me.

"Am I in danger? Has something happened?"

"Everything's fine. It's been a while since we talked. How are you doing, besides hung over?"

"I'm okay."

"Just okay? Has Edward been treating you well? Cause if he hasn't been a gentleman…" And I knew damn well he hadn't been, but her reaction to the question was important.

A ghost of a smile flashed across her face. "He's been a gentleman."

Of course. He'd completely hoodwinked her. I sighed. "Look, about Edward…"

She frowned. "What about him?"

"I know he's good-looking, rich, and whatever else girls like, but Marie," I used her real name deliberately for the first time since bringing her here, "he's not someone you want to get involved with."

"How, exactly, do you think we're involved?"

"I'm not saying you are involved," _even though I know you are, _"I'm saying if you did want to get involved, he's not a good guy for you."

"I wasn't aware you were an expert on the kind of guys I should see." Her voice had risen an octave and she looked more awake.

"Marie," I said gently, appealing to her past personality, "You're a good girl. Smart, kind, bright future ahead of you. Edward means well, but he goes through women like Kleenex. You're in a vulnerable spot, and I would hate it if he took advantage of you. He wouldn't do it on purpose, he's just fickle."

"You're not my dad."

"I'm your friend. And I'm worried about you. Look at you!"

"Look at what?"

"You look like you partied all night. That's not you." _And you were saving yourself for marriage, but instead you threw that away on my brother, but we won't go into that right now_.

She stared at me for a few seconds, and I thought I'd gotten through to her. But her eyes widened suddenly. "Why did you hit Edward the other day?"

Uh-oh. Danger, Will Robinson! "That had nothing to do with this."

"Tell me the truth."

I hesitated, and then she knew.

In two heartbeats, Bella was on top of me, smacking my shoulders and my head and calling me names. What she lacked in oomph she made up for in volume; the first smack didn't hurt, but next five in the same spot did.

"Get off of me!" I tried to throw her off, but she was on me like white on rice and I didn't want to hurt her.

Edward cleared his throat behind us. Naturally, he would pick right now to come downstairs. I didn't have to see him to know he was smirking. I winced as another round of Bella's slaps hit my head. She must not have heard him.

"As much as I'm enjoying this…" Edward said, "Bella, you might want to go upstairs and put some clothes on."

I was married, but I was still a man. The straps of her pj top had fallen down off her shoulders and the fabric on one side had dipped low, and I saw straight down the cami. We both realized it at the same time, and she was off of me in a flash and up the stairs.

The damage was done. The vision of her nipples was burned into my brain. I'd never look at her quite the same wholesome way again. Ugh.

"I'm guessing that was not her response to news of the deposition," Edward said as he came around the corner and into the living room. He was freshly showered and shaven. All remnants of his hangover were gone.

"No shit, Sherlock," I growled. My face was stinging from all of Bella's slaps.

"Coffee?" Edward asked.

"I have beer."

"Do you always make it habit of looking down the shirts of your witnesses? Or is it just the pretty ones that you take advantage of?"

I glared at him.

He glared back at me.

Our glaring contest was getting more ridiculous with each passing second, but damned if I was going to look away first. I always won this game when we were kids.

I won this time, too, because Edward looked away as soon as he heard Bella on the steps. She'd pulled on some casual clothes and her hair was up in a messy ponytail. She looked tired but she smiled at Edward.

"Why are you still here?" Bella gave me a sullen look.

I sighed. This was not how I wanted things to be with her. Of all the witnesses I'd ever protected, I liked her best. "I-"

Edward cut me off. "Emmett was just here to check on you. It's been a while since he saw you."

He turned his head away from Bella and toward me, pleading with his eyes. He thought it was wrong to tell her about the deposition, but damn it, she had a right to know. It wasn't like I was deliberately trying to cause her distress. I was helping her.

I sighed. "I did want to check on you, but more than that, there's something you need to know."

Edward abruptly turned and left. Bella's eyes followed him until he was gone. "What's wrong with him?"

"The deposition has been scheduled for June 9. It's going to be in Portland."

Her full attention was on me, now. "I guess I knew this was coming. But, Portland? I thought the trial was in North Carolina?"

"Portland is where you'll be sworn in. It will just be you and a court reporter and maybe a judge. I fought hard for you to be able to do it via videoconference for security purposes."

Bella sat down on the sofa; her face was carefully blank. "I see."

"You have nothing to worry about. I'll take good care of you, Kiddo." That last word was forced. It was hard to call her kiddo now that I had seen her boobs. But I needed to put myself back in a big brother mentality.

She didn't say anything, just sat there.

"Bella, you know it will be okay, right?"

"Of course." A tight little smile flashed across her face.

All right. She didn't believe me, but that was okay. At least she was pretending she thought things would be okay. Pretending was the first step to creating a good reality.

"Is there anything you want to ask me?" There were a whole host of security measures I could regale her with, but they wouldn't help at all until she was ready to hear about them.

"I trust you," she said, again with that tight smile creasing her face.

"And Bella, remember what I said about Edward."

That got her attention.

"Emmett Cullen," she snapped. "I want you to listen and listen up good."

"Bella-" I started. I didn't want to be at odds with her over something as stupid as my brother.

"No. Don't _Bella_ me." She popped out of her seat, her hands on her hips. "What I do with my personal life is not your concern. At all. If I want to spend time with Edward in private, you will not threaten him. You will not guilt him. And you certainly won't hit him. What you will do is apologize to him. Before you leave today."

Maybe it had been a little out of line to sock Edward in the gut. The jaw, though, he definitely deserved that one. Deserved or not, Bella had another think coming if she thought I was going to apologize.

"Bella," I started again, keeping my voice nice and low, the way I talked to my kids when I needed them to understand something. "I know you're going through a rough time."

"Don't patronize me."

"I'm not!" For a second I lost my calm voice. Deep breath in, exhale, repeat. Okay, it was back. "I'm not patronizing you. I'm protecting you."

"I would appreciate it if you would take all that energy you're wasting on worrying about me spending time with Edward and channeled it into protecting my physical self from the _real_ enemy." Bella gave me an intense stare and pointed upstairs. "Now go apologize to Edward."

There was no choice but to go find my brother. I left Bella in the living room and went up the stairs. Edward was in his gym, seated on the weight bench, doing bicep curls with a moderate amount of weight. I used more weight when I did bicep curls, but that was irrelevant right now.

I put my hands in my pockets and walked toward him until I was a few feet away.

"Hey," I said. It was as good a greeting as any.

"You had to tell her, didn't you?"

"I did."

Edward let out a deep breath and looked out the window. "How did she take it?"

"Okay."

"You can leave now."

"I can't. Bella wanted me to apologize to you."

"For what?"

"For taking a swing at you. For telling you to stay away from her."

Edward didn't look at me, but his lips curved upward slightly. He was pleased, but he was trying to hide it. The smugness was insufferable.

"I'm not sorry," I told him, in case he suffered under the delusion that I was.

"I wouldn't expect you to be."

"So I guess this means you're going back to fucking Bella full-time."

Edward's eyes flicked over to me. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"Next you'll be telling me Bella's different."

He didn't say anything immediately.

As I turned to leave, he said, "She is."

I kept walking all the way out to my car. I didn't look back because I didn't want to see his face, to know if he was as serious as he sounded. I put the key in the ignition and started toward home.

The route was so familiar, I could drive it in my sleep. My mind wandered. What if Edward did care for Bella? What if Bella cared for Edward? These weren't things I'd ever considered as possibilities, and they made me uneasy.

I pulled into the garage and took my shoes off in the mud room. It was almost 11:00, and I should have been home an hour ago for family brunch.

The dining room table was empty, except for one plate laden with French toast, bacon, and fruit.

To eat, or not to eat? That was the question. The food was cold, but it would taste good anyway. What I didn't know was whether I was supposed to eat it. Maybe the plate was there because Rosalie didn't want me to miss out on brunch and she saved it for me. Or maybe the plate was there as a stark reminder that I had missed brunch, and if I ate it she would be angry.

"There you are," Rose's soft voice came from behind me. "Where have you been?" She didn't sound accusing, only concerned. That French toast looked even more attractive now that it seemed likely I was meant to eat it.

"Had to run a couple errands." Her hand was on my shoulder, so I turned around to pull her close to me. She looked up at me with those beautiful eyes of hers and I leaned down to kiss her. "I love you."

Rose pulled back abruptly. "You smell like beer. Were your errands in a bar?"

Fuck. I needed to think fast.

"I visited Edward. You know seeing him drives me to drinking." She looked skeptical, so I added, "I borrowed something a while ago and he needed it back."

"Why didn't you take the girls with you? They adore him." Her arms were folded across her chest, and I knew then that I had blown it. No French toast for me.

"We had a couple of things to discuss."

"Like what?"

"Brother stuff."

"Were you complaining to him about me?"

"No! Baby, I love you."

"Then why won't you tell me?"

Inspiration struck. "I promised Edward."

"It was about Bella, wasn't it?"

My silence answered for me.

Rosalie's face softened. "You're a good brother. You know, all this time, I thought Edward was a hopeless prick with women… but I think he's finally found his match in Bella. I'm excited she's joining the family." She ruffled my hair. "Enjoy your brunch."

I went over to the table eagerly. Rose makes the best French toast. She prepares it the night before so the bread can soak up all the eggy, vanilla-flavored goodness, and then she bakes it in the oven. Even cold, it should have tasted like a slice of heaven.

It tasted like cardboard. Upstairs, Libby and Emma and Rosalie were all laughing together.

My girls.

That was what was bothering me about this whole Edward and Bella mess. I would do my best to protect Bella, that was a given. I would keep her alive to testify and then resettle her somewhere else when the testimony was done. If Edward and Bella became a couple… how would that work? Edward was so high profile, he couldn't simply disappear. If Bella became part of the family, it could put the whole family in danger.

I kept eating, chewing and swallowing mechanically, and staring off into space.

Memories of my time with Bella from before she met Edward flitted through my mind. I remembered us in Pullman. After the adrenaline rush, after all the danger, it was just the two of us in a seedy hotel suite, sitting on the couch watching pay-per-view movies all night and talking. She'd seemed so young and innocent then, telling me about the dreams she had that she didn't think would ever happen. It about broke my heart.

Edward thought he knew Bella, and maybe he did, but I knew her when she was Marie. And Marie– that sweet, innocent girl who was testifying because it was the right thing to do– deserved happiness. If my brother could make her happy right now, maybe that wasn't the end of the world. But there was no way they could be happy in the long run. This was the trial of the century coming up. People were going to know what Marie looked like, and it was entirely likely that her connection to Edward would be revealed.

My whole plan for keeping Marie safe hinged on the idea that after the trial, she would go back into the Witness Protection Program and start fresh somewhere else with a completely new identity. Edward could never abandon his life and family to be in the Witness Protection Program. There was no future for those two. But did they know that?

Libby tore down the stairs, grinning from ear-to-ear. "Hi, Daddy!"

"Hey, pumpkin." I pushed my plate away. The French toast was gone and I hadn't enjoyed any of it. "What are you up to?"

"Me, Mom, and Emma are going to go shopping for Aunt Alice's baby."

I chuckled under my breath. My little sister's baby, who was not even going to born until next month, needed material goods like Eskimos needed ice cubes. "And it's Mom, Emma, and _I_ not _me_."

"Mom, Emma, and I," she said cautiously and I nodded in approval, "are going to meet Aunt Bella at the mall."

I smiled for Libby, and I kept the smile on my face as Emma and Rosalie came downstairs. I smiled until they were safely out the door.

_Aunt Bella_.

She was becoming part of our lives and it scared the shit out of me.

**Tuesday, May 20, 2008**

**Bella**

The deposition was a scant three weeks away. For the most part, I was successful in forgetting about it. Little pieces of panic would creep into my consciousness, but I pushed them away as best I could. I was going to Portland. I would be videoconferencing in from an undisclosed location. Emmett would keep me safe.

I told myself over and over that this wasn't a big deal. The only thing that would change is that the Volturi would know I was alive. They still wouldn't know where I was. They would have no reason to suspect that I was connected to Edward Cullen.

We were all going to be fine. Right? Right.

Finding out Emmett didn't approve of me spending time with Edward had been a revelation. When I knew Emmett had come between us, I thought having an understanding with him would make things go better with Edward… but so far, they hadn't.

I mean, I'd made it obvious to Edward that I was interested in more than a platonic relationship. Surely I couldn't have been that bad in the sack. And he was a guy. And guys liked sex, right? And he'd told me there wasn't anyone else. We were still spending time together in the pool. We had dinner together almost every night. We talked. But that was all that happened. A couple of times I leaned in close to him, hoping he would close the gap and kiss me, but he never did.

Today, I was visiting Alice to go over some of the details for Edward's birthday party. She was driving less and less as her girth continued to expand, but that didn't slow her down. When I asked her how she managed not driving, she laughed at me.

When I arrived at her house, I realized why she laughed. She didn't need to drive. People came to her. A mini-salon had been set up in the living room, complete with a mirror and a sink and everything. Alice was having her hair styled.

"Bella!"

"Alice." I smiled. Planning Edward's birthday party had brought us closer together, and things had grown easy between us recently. "How are feeling?"

"Pregnant," she said with a laugh. "Alonzo and I are just finishing up here. Help yourself to whatever snack you may want from the kitchen."

The kitchen was stocked with every possible food imaginable. This was what it was like to be rich and pregnant. Clearly, someone had put a great deal of effort into ensuring that any food Alice might crave would be available. I cut into a rich looking chocolate cake that already had a piece missing.

As I served it onto a plate, I heard Alice say, "Would you mind bringing me a couple of the peanut butter cookies and a glass of milk?"

By the time I'd poured her milk, my iced tea, and loaded up two plates with food, I was left with more things to hold than I had hands. That was no problem, though. A quick look around the kitchen yielded a tray with sturdy handles. I would not have expected less from a kitchen maintained by an organization diva.

I walked carefully with the tray, mindful of my feet. I did not want to be the one responsible for spilling milk on her bamboo floors. When I reached the living room, Alonzo had already packed up and was wheeling away a cart filled with supplies. Alice's hair was salon-perfect.

"Right over here, Bella," she said, gesturing to an ornate coffee table. She perched herself on the edge of the sofa, her back straight, her belly prominent.

I set the tray down and then sat in a cushy little chair nearby that was quite comfortably. "What are we up to today?"

"The invitations came. I thought we could address the inner envelopes together."

"My handwriting is terrible."

"It doesn't matter. People just want a personal touch."

Sure enough, there was a bag next to the sofa with fancy writing on it. Those had to be the invitations.

"May I?" I gestured to the bag.

"Please do. And we need to make the final decision on the caterer and the decorator today. Other than that, I was hoping we could spend some time catching up. I've wanted to visit with you for days, but little J.C. has been quite vocal about me staying put."

I nodded and reached for the invitations. They were lovely, engraved in gold on a creamy textured black cardstock. A red and white flower splashed across a lower corner. Edward's thirtieth birthday was a black-tie affair. We'd specified no gifts on the invitation at my insistence. It was bad enough we were throwing a surprise party for a man who didn't like birthdays. The last thing he needed was a roomful of gifts; he already had everything he could want.

The outer envelopes were engraved and already addressed. The inner envelopes were blank. They were also black. "Um. Alice?"

"Hmm?"

"First, do we really need two envelopes?"

"Yes. Next question."

"How are we going to write on black envelopes?"

"Ye of little faith. I had gold calligraphy pens delivered."

Even though I'd known Alice long enough not to be surprised, I still blinked. "You had pens delivered?"

"Bella, Bella, Bella. You can have anything delivered if you pay for it. Now divvy up the stack."

I handed over some of the invitations and received a pen in exchange. I nibbled on my cake for a bit before starting. While I leaned over the coffee table to address mine, Alice spread out on the sofa lengthwise with a special little table across her lap. We worked in silence for several minutes.

"You're going to want to address this one, and these other two as well," Alice said suddenly. She slid the cards across the table.

I picked them up, curious. I didn't know anyone who knew Edward and I couldn't imagine any of them knew my handwriting.

Then I saw their names.

Lauren Mallory.

Jessica Stanley.

Tanya Covington.

"Were you handing me these so I could accidentally-on-purpose lose them?"

"Don't be ridiculous. Just address them out."

"I know for a fact that Jessica hates me. I spilled wine all over her dress."

"Rose told me all about it."

"Then why…?" Why did I have to invite someone who hated me? Why did I have to invite Tanya? Why did I need to address their invitations?

"This is not the world you grew up in, but you're a smart girl. You'll learn." Alice paused to take a bite of cookie and sip her milk. "All of those catty girls will be looking for you to show weakness. Don't."

"How does addressing an envelope mean anything, other than that my handwriting sucks?"

"He's your fiancée. Yours. You're the one throwing the party, with some capable help of course. Being in your good favor is the only reason they're invited."

I dutifully wrote: _Miss Stanley and Guest_ and then _Miss Mallory_ _and Guest_. Over Tanya's inner envelope, my pen paused.

"Do we have to invite Tanya?" Yes, I sounded like a whiny thirteen-year-old, but I didn't care. Her presence was unwanted.

"I know Edward hurt your feelings when he did whatever with Tanya, but you have all the cards, sweetie. You're wearing the ring. If he wanted her, he could have had her years ago."

The rock on my hand sparkled in the ambient light. If only Alice knew that this ring didn't mean anything.

"Bella, he loves you."

"We're still on eggshells with each other, a little." That was truthful, at least.

"Still? I thought you were past that."

"We're working on it."

"Hmm. Well if you need a friendly ear, you know where to reach me."

"Thanks," I said, knowing I could never take her up on that offer.

We went back to addressing inner envelopes, and yes, I even addressed the one to Tanya. After the envelopes, we consulted on the caterer and decorator and made our final selections. It wasn't strenuous at all.

Afterward, we lounged in the living room, drinking virgin strawberry daiquiris and chatting. It was easy and pleasant. With Alice, the rest of the world melted away. There was no deposition, no Volturi. Rather, there was a limitless supply of tasty treats, good humor, and an innocent baby on the way.

Jasper called, and I stepped into the kitchen to give her some privacy to talk to him. It was an empty gesture, though, because Alice started yelling, "No! You can't leave me!" and anyone remotely in the vicinity would have heard her.

Alice and Jasper were one of those couples who were always in sync. The idea of her yelling at him was unnerving, especially given the bubble of contentment we'd been sharing together a moment ago.

When Alice went silent, I stepped back into the living room. "Is everything okay?"

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "You know how I told you Jasper is working on the plans for some really important building?"

I nodded. I had a bad feeling about this.

"They want him to do a site visit, which wouldn't be a big deal…"

"Except," I prodded.

"Except for the fact that the building is in Dubai."

"Dubai?"

"He has to do a site visit from June 13 until June 20." Alice sniffed. "What if he misses little Joshua's entrance?"

Alice's due date was June 24. I wrapped her into a hug. "This is your first baby. You're not due until almost a week later. And first babies are notorious for being late."

I wasn't actually sure if they were often late or not, but it seemed like a good thing to say.

"And he's going to miss Edward's party."

Privately, I thought that was just as well. It wasn't as if Edward would care if Jasper came to the surprise birthday party he never wanted. Aloud, I said, "It will be okay. We can have a little get-together for Edward's birthday after Jasper is back."

"But then the baby will be here!" The tears fell.

I patted Alice's back. "It's all going to be fine. Better than fine. You'll see." My voice was surprisingly sincere to my own ears. I could be optimistic for other people.

"I want him to be here."

"I know you do."

We sat together on the couch, her head on my shoulder. When her breathing evened out, I thought she'd decided to nap, but instead she said, "Can I stay with you and Edward while he's gone?"

"Of course you can."


	16. June 3 to June 6, 2008

**A/N:** Thank you to withthevampsofcourse, for looking over this chapter for me and being an all-around good friend.

**Chapter 16**

**Wednesday, October 18, 2006**

A typo.

Typos were the bane of my existence.

I scanned the rest of the document carefully. I'd already printed this memo to the file four times, and now I was going to have to reprint page five. The printer was in the annex, a two-minute walk away from my office. I would have enjoyed the chance to stretch my legs, but the printer was right outside Felix's office. Supposedly Felix spent most of his time out in the field, but if that were true, how did he always manage to be present whenever I printed anything? Yesterday he came up behind me and touched my hair. Not cool.

I considered complaining to Aro about Felix, but what would I say? 'Hey, he touched my hair, make him stop'? No. I was all grown-up now. I could and would handle this.

I kept my head down and walked out to the printer. My hair fell around my face like a shield. If I didn't see him, maybe he wouldn't see me.

"Marrrrrie," Felix drawled.

Darn it. Maybe I could pretend not to hear him.

He put his hand on my shoulder. I stiffened. I had to say something to him. I had to. I couldn't let him keep touching me when it made me so uncomfortable.

I tried to push his hand off my shoulder, but he put his other hand on top of mine, trapping it.

"Why so nervous, little Marie?" He leaned in closer to me and I flinched. "If you ever need someone to show you around town…"

From across the annex, a man's voice projected one word: "Stop."

I froze. The man didn't say anything else, he just gave us a penetrating stare for a few seconds and then turned and walked toward the hall.

Felix released me and stepped away. There were now several feet of space between us. Unnerved by the whole situation, I grabbed page five of my memo and hightailed it back to my office. I closed the door behind me.

At lunch time, Heidi popped her head in. "A bunch of us are going to Pharaoh's for lunch. You in?"

"No, thanks. I brought mine."

Heidi turned to leave.

"Hey," I called after her. "Is there a visitor in the office today?"

"No. Why?"

"It's just, I saw some man earlier today and I didn't know who he was."

Heidi smirked; it was something she did a lot. "Marcus is in the office today."

"Oh!" Marcus had never been in the office, not the entire time I had worked for Volterra.

Heidi stepped all the way into my office and closed the door halfway. She leaned over the desk so I could smell her cinnamon breath. "Friendly piece of advice from me to you. Keep out of his way."

**Tuesday, June 3, 2008**

**Bella**

"What does 'cocktail attire' mean?"

"It means you can show some leg." Alice answered without opening her eyes. "Why?"

It was a rare sunny day in Seattle, and we were poolside at Esme and Carlisle's house, soaking up the rays. The sun felt heavenly on my bare back. Alice was stretched across a chaise lounge lying on her left side to promote good circulation for little Joshua Carlisle. According to Alice, the sun was helping her body make vitamin D, which was helping her absorb calcium, which she needed for the baby… so us hanging out by the pool was productive rather than lazy.

"Edward and I are going to a dinner event on Friday, some charity thing."

Alice's eyes popped open. "What charity thing? He didn't tell me he was going to a charity thing on Friday."

"Um. Edward didn't say. I think it was something for foster children."

"The Treehouse Gala?"

"Yes, that sounds right."

"Would you be a dear and hand me my phone?" Her voice was sugary but her expression was irritated.

I reached over and tossed the phone in her direction. She caught it deftly, her coordination at odds with her girth.

Alice pushed a button and waited several seconds. "Hello, big brother."

Pause.

"Bella tells me the two of you are going to the Treehouse Gala, and that just can't be right. Because I do PR and you told me last month you weren't going. So I, your sister who is eight-and-a-half months pregnant, am representing the Cullen Foundation. I am squeezing my swollen feet into shoes that…"

Pause.

"Right."

Pause.

"Uh huh."

After an especially long pause, Alice broke into a smile. "You're a peach, Edward."

She dropped her phone on the towel beside her.

"Well?" I asked, shielding my eyes from the sun.

"Edward thought I ought not to be representing the Cullen Foundation when I could pop at any moment. The two of you are going to take over PR for the next several months."

"We are?"

"Mmhmm." Alice's eyes closed again, and she was the picture of relaxation. "My big brother loves me."

"How many of these things are coming up?" I was in a mild panic. How many could there be?

"Galas? Not that many. But there are other community events going on that I like to attend. A couple of things a week. It's not a strenuous schedule by any means."

My mild panic escalated several notches. When Edward and I went out to dinner two times in a week, I found it stressful. And at dinner, people weren't even looking at us much. The idea of taking over Alice's social calendar was freaking me out.

"It will be fine, Bella," Alice said, interpreting my silence correctly. "You've got me on your side."

**Wednesday, June 4, 2008**

Edward's car was in the garage. It was 2:00 in the afternoon on a weekday.

_Odd._ Edward was never home until dinnertime.

It would be a lie if I didn't confess to a brief surge of irrational hope that he was home early to see me, even thought I wasn't supposed to be home until 4:00. He'd made it clear that us being more than friends was a bad idea, but I was sure he felt at least some small _friendly _affection for me.

I dashed inside, but he wasn't anywhere obvious. The house was silent. He was probably in his study working. He worked way too much.

I gave up my hunt for Edward and went upstairs to change into workout clothes. I needed to decompress after my day of helping Esme, because helping Esme was never only work. It also involved some wedding planning on the side. Planning my fake wedding to someone who only wanted to be my friend was disconcerting, but I was coping. It was therapeutic, a little, to have a slice of my life where I could pretend I had a future.

Now that I regularly wore a swimsuit for my pool time with Edward, the gym had become my friend. I wasn't sold on lifting weights, but I spent a fair amount of time on the elliptical machine. It wasn't bad as long as I had my iPod for company. I stepped onto the machine, selected my program and verified my weight and age.

It beeped at me, and I started my warm-up. As I increased the speed of my stride, I looked out the window. Edward was there, standing next to the hydrangeas. The weird thing was that he was talking to Jacob. Jake and Edward weren't bosom buds. What could they possibly be discussing?

_In. Out. In. Out._ I focused on my breathing and increased my pace. Jake was Edward's employee. Surely it wasn't unusual for the two of them to hold a civil conversation.

Two songs later, they were still talking. Jacob looked animated. Edward appeared irritated. I was dying to know what they were talking about.

They talked for three more songs before Edward stalked off and Jake went back to work. I hadn't been exercising long, but I decided I was done. I wanted to see Edward. I climbed off the elliptical machine and dashed down the stairs, hoping to meet him on the way in.

I skidded across the floor at the bottom of the steps in my haste. My tennis shoes squeaked on the floor.

"Edward?"

No response.

The foyer and living room were empty. I went into the kitchen, which was also empty, and peered through the window. Jake was still outside working, but he was alone. I searched the house and eventually made my way out to the garage.

Edward's car was gone. Given the silence in the house it wasn't a big surprise, and I wasn't even supposed to be home right now, but… he must have noticed my car in the garage. Didn't he want to see me? Wasn't it a little late to go back to work?

I stepped back through the mud room and into the kitchen toward the back door. I pushed it open a crack to the outside. A gust of damp air blew in. I hesitated a moment and then went outside.

It wasn't raining, but it wasn't dry. The occasional raindrop would spatter my arm or my face as I trudged across the yard. In front of Jake, I halted. His back was to me, and he either didn't hear me or didn't feel like acknowledging me.

I cleared my throat.

He turned around and his eyes registered surprise. So perhaps he hadn't heard me, after all. "Heya Bells. Long time no see."

"Too long," I said, a little surprised that I meant it. I'd been so busy with Alice and Esme and Rosalie that I hadn't had much time to chill with Jake in the gardens. "What have you been up to?"

"A little this, a little that. Nothing too exciting." He shrugged and went back to weeding the perimeter.

Another rain drop spattered on me, and I glared up at the sky. Sometimes I wondered if all my problems would disappear if I could be somewhere sunny again.

"Did I see you talking to Edward earlier?"

Jake went on weeding for several long seconds before he stood to face me. He wiped his hands on jeans and regarded me in a way that would have made anyone squirm. "I should have known you didn't actually want to talk to me. You want to know what Boss-man said."

My cheeks went hot. "I was curious, but you don't have to tell me."

"Good. 'Cause I'm not going to."

Despite that inauspicious beginning to our conversation, Jake and I had a good time talking together. We were still outside in the garden when Edward came home and poked his head outside to let me know he brought dinner home. It was a little awkward. Despite my long-ago promise to Edward that nothing romantic would happen with Jake, I wasn't sure he believed me.

As soon as I stepped into the kitchen the warmth enveloped me; it was a sharp contrast to the cooler outdoor air. Edward was at the counter, opening a bottle of wine. His shirtsleeves were rolled up, and he was still in his work clothes. I could see the muscles in his forearms move as he twisted the corkscrew.

I stared. Only Edward could make opening a bottle of wine sexy. Before we met, I didn't even like wine.

"Welcome home," I said softly, still standing just inside the door.

He replied without looking at me, his voice a little curt. "Thank you."

Intuition flickered, and I felt an overwhelming urge to tell him that Jake was nothing more than someone I considered a friend. I held my tongue, though, because technically, Edward was nothing more than a friend. It would sound ridiculous if I told him that Jake and I weren't doing anything but talking.

Edward carried our wine glasses to the table. When he noticed me trailing after him, he said, "Did you have a nice conversation with the gardener?"

He sure was frosty about Jake for someone who just wanted to be friend and wouldn't kiss me.

"I did." Then I added, "I'm not close with him the way I am with you, but I enjoy his company."

It may have been my imagination, but I could have sworn Edward's shoulders relaxed.

**Friday, June 6, 2008**

My heels clacked on the marble floor as we approached the ballroom. Were all the other girls' shoes as loud as mine? A string quartet played in the corner, and I relaxed as strains of Pachelbel's Canon drifted into the foyer. The music would drown out any staccato sounds from my shoes once we were inside, and I could go sit in a corner and be comfortably anonymous.

Who was I kidding? Standing next to Edward I would be about as anonymous as Elmo at a three-year-old's birthday party. I gripped Edward's arm a little tighter. I wasn't sure whether it was an acknowledgment that people were looking at us or whether it was out of a desire to keep him close to me. Either way, I didn't want to let go of him.

"Are you okay to mingle for a few minutes?" Edward leaned down to speak into my ear. "I saw someone with whom I need to speak."

No, I would not be okay. I hated parties like these and he knew it. But I nodded anyway, because I didn't want everyone to think Edward had a clingy fiancée.

Mingling was not a gift of mine. When Edward left my side, I floundered for several seconds, looking around for a group of people to join. None of them looked welcoming, but I did recognize someone from one of the other parties Edward and I had attended recently.

I walked in her direction, trying to keep my shoes quiet, and hoping like crazy that she remembered me.

"Maribel?" I said, my voice a little awkward and uncertain.

No response.

As I was about to give up and walk another direction, her eyes met mine. Her face broke into a smile and the mingling crisis was averted. I made successful small talk with Maribel and her friends for a few minutes before they asked me about Edward. After I told them what a great fiancé he was, I cut off the conversation. I never liked to say too much about him to anyone. Even though I knew him well now, I didn't know how well other people knew him, and he was a private person.

I gave up on mingling, and instead searched for Edward. After several minutes, I caught sight of him inside the ballroom, standing alone next to the welcome table along the wall. His back was to me and his head was down, but I would know him anywhere.

He turned toward me as I approached. "There you are. We're at table four."

On the table, cards with guests' names were neatly lined up beneath numbered stands. I glanced at the names next to the number four to see if I knew any of our tablemates. My eye caught on one particular name: Mr. Laurent Moreau. "Didn't I meet a Laurent once?"

"You did." Edward gave me a tight smile.

"I'm surprised you didn't swap our table assignment."

He shrugged. "They'll be serving dinner shortly."

Together we walked to the table. Edward pulled my chair out for me, and I sat down. There were two other couples already seated, but I did not see Laurent. Our tablemates were strangers to me, but not to Edward. Not that this surprised me—he seemed to know everyone.

I was the sole reason introductions were needed; everyone else knew each other. At our table were Jason Jenks and his wife Melinda, and Carter Lincoln and his fiancée Victoria. Jason was balding and overweight and his wife's face seemed stiff in a way that suggested she'd had work done. Carter and Victoria, in contrast, were a striking couple. Carter was tall, dark, and handsome, and Victoria had flaming red hair and alabaster skin. Neither couple gave me warm fuzzies, but I plastered a smile on my face and tried to put myself in a WWEFD state of mind.

The salad was served. It had too many gorgonzola crumbles, but I ate it heartily so that it wouldn't be as noticeable that I wasn't talking. I was staring down at yet another bit of gorgonzola on my fork when someone sat down next to me.

It was Laurent, of course it was. To make matters even better, the person he sat down with was… Girl-whose-dress-I-dumped-red-wine-on-at-the-last-party, a.k.a. Jessica.

There were at least three courses left to eat. Even if Edward and I skipped dessert, that would put us stuck with these people for another hour. This was hell, I was sure of it. I braced myself to be civil.

"And so we meet again, beautiful girl," Laurent said. He put an unwelcome hand on my arm.

Before I could recoil, Edward's arm encircled me from the other side. He flicked off Laurent's hand and replaced it with his own.

"Ah, Laurent. Nothing ever changes, does it? You always seem to want what I have." Edward's voice was calm and smooth, and I was trying to decide if he was talking about me or about Jessica. I decided it was me, because he used the present tense, but the idea of him ever having dated Jessica was so abhorrent that I cringed.

"What can I say? I admire a man with good taste." Laurent winked at Jessica. "Sometimes what you have is too good to miss out on."

Jessica blushed and looked away.

I stared at both of them. From Laurent's inflection and that smug look on his face, he was implying that Jessica cheated on Edward. With him.

No way.

Laurent wasn't unattractive by any means, but he had to be at least ten years older than Edward. No girl would sleep with him when she could be sleeping with Edward. And if Jessica cheated on Edward with him, she had to be even dumber than I thought she was.

I expected Edward to be angry about what Laurent was implying, but he was at ease. The arm he had around my shoulders traced across my back, down my arm, and came to rest on my bare knee. A jolt of heat shot through me at our point of contact, and I peeked over at Edward from under my lashes. One corner of his mouth shot up slightly as he met my gaze. My heart sped up in response.

The entire table had their eyes trained on us. I hated being the center of attention.

Edward realized we were under scrutiny a split-second after I did. I could tell, because his eyes went from amused to calculating. His hand moved from my knee, sliding a few inches up my thigh, until it rested under the hemline of my dress.

What was he doing? I looked into his eyes, meaning to convey my question silently, but his expression stopped me. I'd seen that expression once before, right before he kissed me in the hot tub. I licked my lips at the memory, then blushed when I realized he was watching my mouth. My heart progressed from racing to pounding.

He wasn't going to kiss me, not in front of all of these people.

He wouldn't.

Or maybe he would…

He dipped his head lower, toward mine, and I could feel Jessica glaring daggers into my back. It had been more than a month since I'd felt Edward's lips on mine, and I craved it like a drug, audience be damned.

I stopped breathing, anticipating a kiss. At the last second, his course changed, and instead of kissing my lips, he kissed my shoulder… and then he moved my hair aside and trailed his lips up to my neck. He began with butterfly kisses, but as he worked his way up my neck, his tongue came into play, licking and teasing. A small moan escaped my lips. Before I could be embarrassed that everyone heard me, he covered my mouth with his.

My stomach turned somersaults of excitement while one of my hands buried itself in his hair and the other stroked his cheek. I should have been ashamed of myself. I should have pulled away instead of pulling him closer, but how could I? I wanted this so badly, and if the only way he would give it to me was with an audience… my willpower wasn't strong enough to say no.

Our tongues danced together.

I was in heaven.

I dimly heard Jessica sniping at us, something about how people who didn't start out rich were lacking in tact. But I didn't care because I was kissing Edward and she wasn't.

The hand Edward had on my thigh crept upward. As it moved higher under my dress, tiny beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. Our kissing intensified.

Someone spoke next to us, but the words didn't register.

The person spoke again, but I was concentrating on the way Edward's fingers felt on my thigh.

They felt _good_.

This time the voice was in my ear. "Excuse me, Ma'am, would prefer the steak or the salmon?"

Reluctantly, and with flaming cheeks, I pulled away from Edward. "I'll have the salmon, please."

"And for you, sir?" The waiter turned to Edward.

"The steak. Rare."

Dinner lasted both too long and not long enough. It was too long, because I could barely tolerate the idea of sitting still long enough to eat when I could have been making out with Edward. It wasn't long enough, because our audience was the reason I was receiving this kind of attention from him.

As we ate and conversed with the table, Edward kept one hand on me at all times. The default resting spot for his hand was my knee, but every so often he would stroke my arm or trail fingers up my thigh. Once he 'accidentally' brushed my breast as he reached for the bread.

By the time dessert arrived, I was so turned on it was uncomfortable. I excused myself to go to the ladies' room. I stared at myself in the mirror. My pupils were dilated and my face was lit up. Edward and I had been in public before, but he had never been like this. In public, we tried to look engaged, but it was mostly him putting an occasional arm around me or whispering in my ear. It was never full on flirting or making out. Why was tonight different?

I took deep breaths and tried to will my heartbeat to slow. While this was playing out like one big long stretch of foreplay in front of the other diners, I knew it was all an act. Nothing was going to happen when we got home. He would go to his room. I would go to mine. But I wouldn't dwell on that now; I would bask in whatever attention he offered.

Thus collected, I stepped out of the ladies' room and back into the circus. I glimpsed our table from across the room and realized Edward's seat was empty. Scanning the room, I identified the back of his bronze head. He was standing at the bar, waiting for the bartender. I made my way toward him, threading through the people.

When I was right behind him, the bartender approached him and they started talking. I didn't want to interrupt, so I waited behind Edward. I wasn't trying to listen to the conversation, but I overheard the exchange anyway.

"At some point, table four will order a round of shots, possibly a few rounds" Edward said, his voice low enough that I almost didn't catch it. "Make sure that my shot glass always has water in it." Bills changed hands.

"Of course, Mr. Cullen," the bartender replied.

"And this is for your discretion." Edward's palm covered the bartender's again.

So caught up was I in the exchange that I forgot I was standing at Edward's elbow. We almost collided when he turned to go back to our table.

He gripped my shoulders a little harder than necessary. "How long were you standing there?"

"Well…"

He sighed. "Keep it quiet."

"Duh." I wasn't stupid.

Edward led me back to the table. Jason and Melinda were up and dancing, but Carter, Victoria, Laurent, and Jessica were still seated.

When Edward pulled my chair out, Jessica stood up.

She tugged Laurent's hand. "C'mon, Baby. I don't want to be here anymore."

Laurent ignored her, instead fastening his gaze on Edward. "How about a round of drinks?"

"Pass," Edward said. "I have all the drink I need right here." He nuzzled my neck.

"I insist." Laurent signaled to a waiter. "Six shots of tequila for the table."

"Every time," Edward sighed.

"It's tradition, Cullen!"

Before the waiter could disappear, Edward said, "Make mine vodka."

"Mine too," I added. My last memory of having tequila with Edward was too sacred to be ruined by drinking with Jessica.

"I'd like Sex on the Beach instead of tequila," Victoria said.

I had one shot of vodka. It did not go down well. I shuddered and shivered and felt a little sick. After that I switched over to Coke. The rest of the table had five rounds of shots over the next hour. Victoria ran her tongue up the side of Carter's face. Jessica looked like she might pass out or hurl at any moment. Carter was telling stories about his sexcapades with Victoria as she egged him on. Laurent was boasting about some business deal. Edward was laughing a little too loudly in all the right places, and his hands were all over me. He was a good actor.

Victoria and Jessica skipped the sixth round of shots and disappeared to the ladies' room together.

It was just the guys and me.

Carter stopped talking about sex, and instead changed the topic to some elite group that he, Laurent and Victoria were all members of, the Occhi. From the conversation path, I gathered that Edward had once been invited to join and had refused.

"A man like you would make an excellent addition to the Occhi, but you know that." Laurent downed his sixth shot.

"You told me two years ago that they only ask once." Edward sounded decidedly sober. I stepped on his foot, trying to remind him that he was supposed to be drunk.

Carter cut in, "That's the rule. But there's always exceptions for the right people."

"What about Bella? Would she be invited, too?"

"Hell yes." Carter leered at me. "Bella, we have good parties. I know Toria would be happy to show you the ropes."

Victoria and Jessica returned to the table, and Jessica looked much better. Maybe she'd puked while she was in the bathroom. I was glad I'd already made my bathroom trip.

Victoria's cheeks were still flushed and her eyelids were heavy. "Did I hear my name?"

"I was just telling Bella how you would show her the ropes if she and Edward join."

"Join what?" Jessica asked. Nobody answered her.

Victoria's eyes met mine and she appraised me. I felt her eyes run over me and then run appreciatively over Edward. "Of course. I love new playmates."

I repressed a shudder. I wanted to leave. Now. I stepped on Edward's foot and gave him a significant look when I thought no one was looking.

"I believe the dance floor is calling us. We'll finish this conversation another time." Edward stood and offered me his hand. I allowed him to pull me into standing. He put his arm around me and led me to the dance floor.

"I thought we were leaving," I whispered.

"We are. But may I have one dance with you first? I would hate to be revealed as a liar."

"I can't dance. You know this!" My whisper took on a hysterical edge.

"You might surprise yourself. The music is slow and I'm good at leading." He captured one of my hands in his and arranged my other hand on his upper arm, just below his shoulder. "Hold my gaze and don't look at your feet."

And then we were off. Truly, the dancing wasn't so bad. Edward's hand behind me was a good guide to the way we would move next, and it was more than pleasant to be so close to him. I was almost sad when the music ended.

We drove home in silence. Our act for the public was over, and I wasn't sure how to be with him in the car. I was also still reeling a bit from all the physical contact we'd had over the course of the night. I didn't want it to stop, but I didn't know how to ask for it to continue.

It was late when we arrived at the house. Edward helped me out of the car, and I let my fingers grip his forearm. He didn't let go and I didn't either, so we walked into the house connected.

"Are you going to tell me what all that Occhi stuff and the water in the shot glasses was about?"

"I wasn't planning to." He let go of my arm.

"Why not?"

"Bella," he started.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me. After all, I'm not your real fiancée." My voice came out quiet and timid and I hated that it sounded that way.

"It's not that I don't trust you. We're… friends."

"I was just curious." I looked away, because every time he called us friends a little piece of me died.

Edward took a deep breath and let it out all at once. "Sometimes there are things I don't want you to know because you're not very good at lying."

"Lying? Why would I need to lie about the Occhi or whatever they are?"

"I have some work to do tonight. Maybe tomorrow we can have our swimming lesson in the morning?"

I nodded, but he didn't see it, because he was already on his way to the study. I went to bed even though I wasn't tired.

For two hours, I tried to sleep. It wasn't a token attempt; I tried in earnest. I closed my eyes, tucked my hand under my pillow just so, and told myself to stop thinking. When I couldn't stop my brain, I counted sheep. I made it past a thousand before giving up. Something about the secrecy of that Occhi group reminded me of the Volturi, and thinking of the Volturi reminded me of the deposition, and the idea of the deposition was terrifying.

Sleep was not going to happen, so I shrugged on my robe, stepped into my slippers and went downstairs. The living room was dark, but the hall light was on. I count hear faint piano music, and I wondered if it was Edward in his study listening to music or if he was playing.

The music stopped mid-song and then restarted. He was definitely playing. I padded down the hall to the door of the music room, where I stood for some minutes, listening. When Edward played, I could hear passion underlying every note, and it gave me goose bumps. During ninety-five percent of all of my interactions with him, he was cool and collected and completely in control. The other five percent of times were the ones I craved.

Edward switched songs, to something I didn't recognize. It was a dramatic piece, filled with changes in volume and pace, and I closed my eyes and envisioned his fingers flying across the keys. I'd never seen him play before, though I'd heard him many times. The door to the music room was closed like it always was, but tonight, I wanted to see him.

I wanted something real, something to take my mind off of the impending deposition. I would knock when he finished this song and ask if I could listen inside the music room for a while. The worst he could say was no, right?

The music stopped.

My hand fisted and hovered an inch from the door, but my nerve was failing.

The seconds stretched out, and I had brief stab of fear that maybe he was finished playing and he would open the door into my face and we would have to make a midnight run to the hospital for a broken nose. Since that sounded on par with how my luck ran, I backed two paces away from the door.

He started playing again, and if I knocked I would be disturbing him.

But if I didn't knock, I would never know if he would have let me in.

I rapped on the door.

The music stopped abruptly, but nothing happened. I knocked again, quieter this time. On the last knock, the door opened a crack.

"Bella?"

I bit my lip, nervous. "I couldn't sleep. Do you mind if I come in and listen to you play?"

In answer, Edward pushed the door open further, and I slipped inside. There was nowhere to sit other than the piano bench, so he made room for me there. Our shoulders touched as his fingers moved along the keys. Hearing him play through the door had not done him justice as an artist, not at all. Sitting this close him, I could feel the music.

It could have been thirty minutes, it could have been two hours, but eventually Edward stopped playing.

"You should be in bed," he murmured.

"So should you." My fingers fidgeted in my lap.

"I'll go if you will." He stood up.

"Each time I close my eyes to sleep, I think of _them_."

Edward caressed the side of my face. I leaned into it shamelessly.

"Do you know what I admire most about you?"

I shook my head and stood.

"Your bravery." He wrapped his arms around me and rested his chin on my head. He was warm and solid and safe.

"Will you hold me tonight? I know I won't be able to sleep on my own."

Edward hesitated, and I thought he would say no, but he surprised me.

"Of course I will."

He released me from his arms, and together we went upstairs to his room. I crawled into his bed and snuggled his pillow while he got ready.

Edward emerged from the bathroom in a pair of boxers and his body was illuminated in the doorway for a few seconds before he flipped the light off. It was nothing I hadn't seen before—we had swimming lessons regularly, after all—but we hadn't ever been together quite like this. We'd been in this bed together twice before, but one of the times I was sleeping and woke up after Edward had already gone downstairs. The other time had been after we had sex and I was tipsy.

I was sober now. He was sober now. We were sober and in his bed, together. I rolled over onto my side and Edward draped an arm over me and held me flush against him.

One part of my plan was successful: I was no longer thinking about the Volturi. But there was no way I would be able to sleep.


	17. June 7 to June 13, 2008

**A/N:** Many thanks to Phoenixhunter47 and Withthevampsofcourse for looking over this chapter.

**Summary:** In Chapter 16, Bella and Edward attended a gala where they were seated at a table with several members of a group called the Occhi. After they went home, Bella revealed her nervousness about the upcoming deposition and asked Edward if he would hold her that night. He obliged, and that is where we left off.

**Chapter 17**

**Friday, March 16, 2007**

I held the sign in front of me, a smile plastered on my face as people talked and hugged and rushed and bustled around me. This was by far my least favorite part of the job.

After what felt like an eternity, someone tapped me on the shoulder. "You must be Marie."

"Mr. Jenks," I said brightly.

"Call me Jason."

We climbed into a limo waiting outside of the terminal. I made small talk as best I could, which was to say that I did it poorly. He didn't seem to mind, though. He gave me a few awkward smiles that grew fewer and farther between as we drew closer to Volterra headquarters.

Most of the visitors I picked up from the airport were people that Heidi and I would show the town. We'd tour a museum, take in a Cubs game, or perhaps explore the aquarium. But everyone I fetched from the airport eventually spent time at headquarters. Some of the people were happy to visit Volterra. Some of them were nervous.

Jason was nervous.

When we arrived, I knew why. Caius was waiting for us in the lobby.

No one was ever happy to see Caius. While there was no proof he liked anyone, it was obvious he didn't like _me_ at all. Every time I was unfortunate enough to be in his company, he would look at me as though I were a bug he wanted to squish under the heel of his expensive Italian shoe. It was going to be a long, painful night if I had to take Jason to dinner with Caius.

Before turning his gaze to Jason, Caius spared me a glance. "We won't be needing your services any longer this evening, Marie."

I clenched my jaw. I hated the way he said "services" like he was implying I did something other than be friendly. Now was not the time to talk back to Caius, not in front of a guest. In truth, there was never a good time to talk back to Caius, so instead I flashed Jason the brightest smile I could manage and said my goodbyes.

All the while I walked away from Caius and Jason, I repeated my mantra in my head: _No college loans, No college loans, No college loans_. If I quit this job early, I would have to pay back to Volterra the money they put up for me to go to school. All I had to do was tolerate this until my contract was up, and then I could get a job teaching and start my real life.

Instead of heading straight out to the parking deck and home, I went to my office to pick up my computer. I checked my email and then shut down. I packed up my things and turned out the light, cutting through the annex and out toward the elevator. All the lights were off, save the one in Caius's office.

Through the window next to the door, I could see Caius talking to Jason. Jason's back was to me, but I could see Caius's face. It was twisted into an ugly expression that I knew too well. I gave a little shudder and offered up a silent thanks that I would not have to tolerate his company.

**Saturday, June 7, 2008**

**Edward**

I could feel Bella's chest move as she breathed. She was in my arms, her body pressed against mine, and she was trying to sleep. We were both trying without success, and had been doing so for the better part of an hour. After several more minutes, I moved minutely to peer over her shoulder to gaze upon her profile, but her eyes were closed. Following her lead, I, too, pretended to sleep.

Another hour crawled past, and the torture of being so close to Bella without doing anything was taking its toll. My muscles ached from the effort of keeping my arm still. It was in a neutral pose, not too near anywhere inappropriate, and it seemed wrong to move it. When I could stand it no longer, I extricated my arm and rolled over, so that we were now back to back.

The bed moved as Bella shifted to face the same direction I was, and I felt her breath on my neck. Her hand touched the small of my back, and I stiffened, unsure whether to welcome this development or quash it. My lack of immediate censure was a decision, because Bella began trailing her fingertips along my spine.

"Bella," I murmured, "You're making it hard to sleep."

"Sorry," she said, and I melted a little. "The deposition is in two days. Two. Everything might change, and I want to tell you…"

I rolled over to face her; we were so close our noses touched. The contours of her face were barely discernable in the darkness. I pressed my lips against hers. It was a sweet kiss, short and chaste. It was also completely unsatisfying, but a friend wouldn't take a kiss further than that.

"Don't talk, Bella. Just sleep. I won't let anything happen to you."

Bella sighed, and she did eventually fall asleep.

I, however, stayed up long after she had drifted to dreamland, wondering what it was she had left unsaid.

Saturday was a blur of activity that I spent mostly away from Bella; we had a quick swimming lesson in the morning, but then she was out shopping for a wedding dress with my mother. That was for the best, given that I found her presence somewhat distracting, and I preferred my actions for the day to go unquestioned. The first order of business was to drop off my car at Gina's house. As a personal favor, my secretary would be driving my car to work and then driving it home at night while I was out of town. My calendar was booked with back-to-back meetings to explain my absence from my office; Gina had agreed to turn my lights and computer on when she arrived in the morning. Urgent messages would be forwarded to my Blackberry.

The second order of business was disagreeable but unavoidable. After Gina dropped me off at home, I went into the living room to wait for the gardener to arrive. He was late, as usual, but he did have a suitable female with him. The pair went to the front door and rang the doorbell, which was irritating given that I had specifically asked the gardener to come in the back door to avoid drawing attention to his female friend. Good help could be so elusive.

He was doing me a favor, though, so I swallowed my irritation and greeted him. "Jacob, Leah, welcome. Thank you for assisting on such short notice."

The gardener nodded curtly at me.

Leah said, "I'm just here for the free ride on your jet."

She had the charm of a cactus in a rainforest, but I fixed a friendly smile on my face. "You both understand the story?"

"Yeah, yeah," Jacob said. "Bella wanted to go to some garden show and you didn't want to go, so I'm escorting her. And I'm being paid triple time for my efforts."

I turned to Leah. "And if anyone asks who you are…"

"I'm Bella, the tartlet you have living with you. Got it. I did pass my SATs, you know."

"Fiancée. Bella is my fiancée."

"Whatever you say," she said with a saccharine smile that did nothing to make her more attractive.

My jaw tightened, and I gave up my friendly demeanor. The idea that anyone might believe this… young woman… was Bella upset me. But I didn't have to like her. I didn't have to see her again after this fiasco was finished. Into Leah's hand I put a new credit card I had procured in Bella's name and reminded Leah to sign the back of it. All the expenses would be charged to the card, giving credence to the idea that she was Bella. I gave the gardener the tickets I had procured for the show, in addition to private balcony tickets for the symphony later that night. They would have a fine evening on my dime, and Bella would have an alibi if anyone in the Occhi wondered where she was during the deposition.

Was I going above and beyond? Yes. Why was I going to so much effort to help Bella? She had Emmett at her beck and call, and his assistance was more than sufficient to ensure her safety. I could tell myself I was protecting my investment; I had put a good deal of energy and resources into Bella thus far, but it was more than that. There was something special about Bella, or perhaps it was that she was special to me. Special wasn't a strong enough word, but I wasn't willing to contemplate a stronger one.

**Sunday, June 8, 2008**

"What part of _not going_ do you not understand!" Emmett roared at me.

We had been discussing my desire to go to Portland for the last forty-five minutes, but we were at an impasse. Thus far, our discussion had consisted of the same arguments repeated at an ever-increasing decibel level.

I drummed my fingers on the kitchen table, thinking. There was no choice for me but to go. I refused to be apart from Bella while she was going through the ordeal of giving her statement. The last time we were apart, she almost boffed the gardener. Though I didn't think she would fall to such depths of despair again, there was no need to leave it to chance. I would be accompanying Bella to Portland, and I would be there if she needed me.

Emmett was sitting across from me in a wooden chair that was slightly too small for his sizable frame. His chair was parallel to the table, giving me a view of his profile. One elbow rested on the table. His legs were sprawled in front of him. Someone who didn't know him would have been intimidated, but we'd grown up together. Despite our recent clashes, we got along well as brothers. The Cullen family was a close knit one, and Emmett and I were no exception. He would see things my way eventually; it was merely a matter of me coming up with the correct argument.

After several seconds of silence, I asked, "What if it were Rosalie?"

Emmett looked at me suspiciously, but let me continue.

"If Rosalie were the witness, and someone other than you was assigned to protect her, would you go to Portland with her?"

"Hell yes, I would."

"Assume that the person assigned to protect her was the best. Assume he was better than you were-"

"No one is better than I am," Emmett snapped through a clenched jaw.

"For the sake of argument, then, assume he was better able to protect Rosalie than you were. Would you still go?"

Emmett sighed. "I would, little brother, but we're talking apples and oranges. Rosalie is my _wife_. No matter what you and Bella are doing between the sheets, it's not the same. I'm the professional, and you've done enough to help her. Let me do my job."

He meant his words to be kind, but they stung. Bella wasn't my wife, no, but that didn't mean I couldn't care about her well-being. I drummed my fingers on the tabletop again, thinking. There was nothing I could say that would convince Emmett that I was as passionate about Bella's protection as he was about Rosalie's. Even if I told him I loved Bella, he would blow it off. Going to Portland on my own was a possibility, but Emmett hadn't given me enough information about the deposition to make it feasible. Bella's safety was my paramount concern, and going to Portland without telling Emmett or Bella could create unintended complications. Emmett could best protect Bella if he knew about all of the pieces in play on the chessboard. He needed to know I would be there.

"Will you stop with the fingers on the table already? It's annoying."

I stilled my hand as inspiration struck. "If Bella wants me there, will you relent?"

"No."

"She's been through a lot," I said, appealing to my brother's softer side. "I think she'll need a friend after she finishes giving her statement."

"Then she can talk to me. Bringing you would be a security threat."

"I've taken measures to mitigate my security risk."

"Like what?"

"I've made sure that both Bella and I have alibis for our absence so that we can keep suspicion to a minimum."

"Edward. There is no _we_ in this little adventure. You're the public face of the Cullen Foundation. Someone will recognize you and then the whole house of cards will fall down on Bella's head."

"Appearances can be altered." I pulled my phone from my belt and set it on the table. "All I'm asking is that we put the decision in Bella's hands and abide by her wishes."

Putting the decision with Bella was a gamble, because if she sided with Emmett, it would be even harder for me to win Emmett to my side. From the sour expression on Emmett's face when he saw the phone, I could tell that he wanted to say no, but he was dutifully considering my request. He liked Bella. He wanted things to go smoothly for her; it was part of what made him a superior U.S. Marshal. Before he could think too long, I speed-dialed Bella and put my cell phone in his hand. I had assumed that Emmett would take the call at the kitchen table, but after saying hello to Bella he disappeared with my phone out into the yard where I couldn't hear him.

"Well?" I said. Uncharacteristically, I couldn't read anything from his expression, and my breathing stopped again.

"You win. This time." Emmett scowled, tossed the phone back to me, extracted a beer from the refrigerator, and then disappeared into the living room. I could hear sports blaring on the television as I let myself out of the house and drove home.

Bella was waiting for me at the pool. It was raining, but I didn't care. This was our last swimming lesson before Portland. Our last time together before everything changed.

She was seated on the edge of the pool, her calves dangling in the water. The lights were on, turning the tiny beads of raindrops on her shoulders and hair to glitter. She greeted me with a sweet smile, and she had never looked lovelier.

"I wasn't sure you'd want a swimming lesson today," I said.

"We always have one at this time."

"Not when it's raining." I scanned the sky, verifying there was no lightning to put a premature end to our lesson.

"It's not really raining. It's more sprinkling." She hesitated. "I'm glad you're coming with me to the deposition. It means a lot to me."

"I want to be there." As I spoke, I moved into the welcoming circle of light around the pool and lowered myself into shallow end. Once in, I made my way over to Bella. The water was warm and delightful, and I indulged in allowing my hand to brush her ankle.

At that same moment, Bella pushed off the wall and slid into the water, with the unintended consequence of my hand caressing her leg, from ankle to thigh. Concentric ripples swirled around us as our eyes met. The distance between us was negligible, and I leaned into it shamelessly.

"Ready to get wet?" No matter how warm the water, it always took Bella few minutes to screw up her courage and dip her head under the water.

"I'm already wet, Edward," she said, her voice low and a bit too seductive for my peace of mind.

"Excuse me?" It was unlike Bella to be so forward. Or at least it was when we were sober and didn't have an audience.

"The rain, silly." She giggled. "I've been sitting out here for ten minutes—I'm soaked."

"Right. Of course." Of course Bella hadn't meant she was _wet_ wet in a dirty way. Being around her was so distracting lately that I was losing my grip on reality and imagining connotations that weren't there.

"Let's get started then."

We started with floating, like we always did. Bella didn't need help floating; she hadn't for more than a month, but I put my arms under her anyway. In the beginning, it had been a challenge for her to relax enough to trust the water to keep her afloat. The difference between then and now was remarkable. I smiled at her serene expression, taking in her closed eyes and arms draping at her sides. Her feet gave a periodic kick to keep her floating at the level she wanted to be.

Bella was floating so well and seemed so relaxed that I varied from our routine. I released her and eased back into the water, letting it cradle me. Once I was floating on my back, I reached out my hand. I put my palm under hers, letting Bella know that I was still there. She laced her fingers with mine, and we floated together for a while, raindrops spattering our upturned faces.

Something about being in the water with Bella was liberating. We didn't have to pretend when we were in the pool together. There were no pretenses between us; no one was watching us. It was as though the rest of the world ceased to be when we were together like this. We were safe here, she and I.

Bella released my hand, and I took that as a cue that we were done and it was time to start the rest of our lesson. We worked on treading water and continued to improve upon her front crawl. When our time was almost up, I gestured for her to stand up so she would hear me.

"How would you like to go off the three-meter diving board today?"

"With you?"

"You don't need me."

There was fear behind her eyes. "I don't know, Edward. Maybe another day?"

"I think today is a good day." _It has to be today. Free yourself of this fear. You don't need the gardener or anyone else to help you. You are strong._

We bantered back and forth a bit before she laughed uneasily and climbed the ladder to the diving board. It was dusk and the rain was still falling. Bella approached the end of the diving board and stood there for several long seconds as I stared at her svelte silhouette. I wanted to encourage her, to climb up behind her and jump with her, but I couldn't. This was her fear. She had to conquer it alone.

Bella looked over her shoulder for a moment, as though she was contemplating not jumping, but then she turned forward, looked down at the water, and jumped in cleanly. Her legs were straight and she entered the water with nary a splash. She surfaced with the same euphoric smile that I imagined Aphrodite had worn as she emerged from the sea foam of Cyprus.

I swam to her side to congratulate her, and because I wanted to be near her again. "Nicely done."

"Thank you," she said. For a moment, I thought she was going to kiss me, and I froze with uncertainty. She didn't, though, and I cursed my overactive imagination.

Arm in arm, we walked to the house, one large beach towel draped over the two of us. To an outside observer watching us at this moment, we would look exactly like what we pretended to be—an engaged couple. Three months ago, that thought would have disturbed me, but now my feelings were mixed. Part of me very much enjoyed the idea of Bella being mine.

As we entered the kitchen, the heavenly smell of lasagna wafted over to us. It had been a long swimming lesson, and I was starving. I dashed upstairs for a quick shower and changed into some clothes. By the time I made it downstairs, Bella was already taking food out of the oven. I pulled plates and silver out of the hutch to set the table while Bella sliced peppers for a salad.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

Bella gave me a dubious look and I returned it with a grin. Ever since I had burned the toast, she had been adamant she didn't need my help in the kitchen. "Um, could you pick out a bottle of wine? I wasn't sure if you wanted to go French tonight."

"French?" Images of what Frenching with Bella could be assaulted my senses.

"Uh huh. Wine. We're having Italian. I didn't know if you wanted French wine or Italian wine."

"Wine, right. I'll go select a bottle." As I walked down into the cellar, I berated myself for being such an idiot. Not every word that came out of her mouth related to sex.

I perused the cellar. I had a limited selection of Italian wine, and a much broader selection of French reds. I tried to select a French wine, one that had a nice bouquet and was easy to drink. Tried and failed, because I kept thinking about _French_ things I could do with Bella, and that was not a good direction for my mind to wander.

"Where's the wine?" Bella asked, when she noticed I walked up the stairs empty-handed.

"I thought we'd stick with water tonight."

We sat across the table from each other. Bella ate with gusto while I watched her. I was hungry, yes, but I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Her hair was still damp and had a little wave to it. Her eyes were amber pools in the warm light from the dining room candelabra. Her skin was luminous.

**Tuesday, June 10, 2008**

"I can't believe I agreed to this," Emmett muttered for the sixth time. It was 5:00 A.M., and Emmett was not a morning person.

He looked ridiculous. Trying to disguise Emmett was like trying to hide a linebacker in a room full of chess players. He'd done everything he could to look different, down to wearing suspenders, even, but I privately thought that he would have done just as well to put on a hat and a pair of sunglasses.

Bella's disguise was also amusing. She'd opted for a blond wig, blue contacts, and a push-up bra with a v-neck shirt. Her logic was if she showed enough cleavage, no one would look at her face anyway. _She's a smart girl_, I thought, as I ripped my eyes away from her chest before Emmett caught me. I needn't have worried; Emmett, too, was looking at her chest. The laughter escaped my lips before I could stop it.

"Something funny?" Emmett growled.

I smirked. "Between you and Bella, I feel like we're stepping out of the _Erin Brockovich _movie. It's a good thing our rental car is a Chevy. People would probably think we stole an Audi."

"Get in the backseat," he said with a glare in my direction. "Bella, get in the front. Let's get this show on the road."

We made good time to Portland. Emmett didn't drive as fast as I would have, but we made it in under three hours. Bella wasn't due at the courthouse until 9:00, so we arrived with enough time to check into our hotel.

The mechanics of taking Bella to the courthouse involved complicated coordination, and I wasn't allowed to go. My job was to wait at the hotel and guard our things. It was a ridiculous job, since the only items that could reveal our identities were the IDs Emmett and Bella brought with them. I hadn't even bothered to bring my driver's license on this trip. I humored Emmett by telling him I would wait at the hotel—but I spent the day staked outside of the courthouse, watching for anything or anyone that was suspicious.

Rationally, I knew she was safe in the physical sense. Yes, the Volturi could see her via video conference. Yes, the Volturi's lawyer was cross-examining her. But they were far away in North Carolina, and Bella was safe here in Oregon. Things would be different after the deposition; we had existed in a bubble where the Volturi thought Bella was dead, and now they would know she was alive.

How hard would they look for her? I had no idea. Given her prior experiences, the obvious answer was that they would scour the country for her. I made a mental note to contact Laurent later in the week. I hated him, yes, but I was almost positive that the Occhi consisted of third- and fourth-string connections to the Volturi. Whatever else they did, they were a method for the Volturi to keep tabs on what was happening in Seattle.

_Keep your friends close and your enemies closer_. I wanted to hear what was being reported back to the Volturi, wanted to know if they were actively searching for Bella, and the only logical way to find out was to become part of the Occhi. As an added bonus, joining the Occhi would probably make it less likely that we would fall under suspicion. There was a not insignificant amount of risk involved; it was possible that someone might recognize Bella, but given the size of the Volturi and the distance between Seattle and Chicago, the odds had to be low.

As the minutes ticked away, I found my thoughts drifting back to April, when Bella had informed me that she wanted to have sex, because doing something she would live to regret would guarantee she would live through the trial. It was the most inane piece of logic I had ever heard. Memories of her flawed logic led to memories of the two of us in the hot tub. Those memories were both sweet and bitter; the sweetness of her flesh mixed with the bitterness of knowing I was a cad for taking her virginity that way.

When Bella finally emerged from the courthouse with Emmett by her side, I was so relieved I almost forgot that I needed to hustle back to the hotel to be there when they arrived. I drank in the sight of Bella—she looked weary but otherwise okay—and smiled. The timidity that had been her hallmark when she first arrived at my home in March had evaporated. She was stronger now, more confident. She was beautiful, even with her blond wig and push-up bra.

**Saturday, June 13, 2008**

The doorbell rang, and I opened it with a smile. "Alice, Jasper, it's been too long."

"It has," Alice said as she hugged me, her girth making our embrace awkward. "I think I see Bella more than I see you."

"Mmm. Well, I think it is safe to say that you and Bella have a little more free time than I do." I released Alice and clasped Jasper's hand in mine.

Jasper gave me a tight smile. "Thank you for letting Alice stay, bro. It means a lot."

"We're family. There was never a question." The only question had been how fast Bella and I could completely clear out the room Bella had been staying in so that Alice would never know she had been sleeping there.

When Bella had first told me that Alice would be staying with us, I had known immediately which room Alice would want. Alice would want the best guest room, the one with the fancy bathroom… the one I had given to Bella when she arrived. I had procrastinated on forcing Bella to move out of the bedroom, mostly because although we were friends, and while she had certainly seen my room before, the idea of being that close to her and keeping away from her reeked of torture.

The deposition had dragged on through Wednesday, and it wasn't until Thursday that we drove home. Emmett had dropped us off at the house, and Bella and I had spent the day watching movies. Yes, we did watch _Erin Brockovich_ because I do have a sense of humor. Bella didn't mention the deposition or anything related to the statement she gave, and I didn't ask.

On Friday, I realized Alice was coming and we needed to move Bella into my room. It took us the better part of the day to erase all evidence that Bella had been in the guest room and to make my room look like she lived there. Alice was observant, so I wanted no detail to go unnoticed. I was sure we had missed something, but with her being so close to her due date, I hoped her mind would be on other things.

"I hate that I'm leaving, baby." Jasper nuzzled Alice's neck, and I looked away; I didn't want to intrude on their final moments together.

After Jasper was gone and Alice settled herself into the guest room, she trudged downstairs and into the kitchen.

"I'm hungry," she announced.

"Your wish, my command," I said, and gestured to the refrigerator. Bella had been to the grocery store yesterday to stock up on Alice-friendly foods.

"I need chocolate. I miss Jazz already."

I found the flourless chocolate cake that Bella had baked the day before and removed it from the refrigerator. I cut a piece and offered it to Alice with a flourish.

She looked at me suspiciously. "You're in an awfully good mood, considering how I'm suffering."

"Sorry, Alice." I was instantly contrite.

"No, don't be sorry. It's kind of refreshing. I haven't seen you this pleased with yourself since you won the geography bee in seventh grade."

Was I that transparent? Bella's feet were padding down the stairs and I looked over to the doorway so I could see her when she stepped into the room. She had been working out when Alice arrived, and she was now freshly showered and changed. My gaze lingered on her a trifle too long, but I was saved from Alice commenting by Bella dashing into the kitchen to wrap Alice in a hug.

Alice gave me a knowing smirk over Bella's shoulder. On another day, it might have irritated me, but I was still too caught up in enjoying Bella to care.

Alice and Bella spent the day together while I caught up on the work I missed earlier in the week. Dinner came and went. After dinner, the three of us played Scrabble. It should have been an easy victory for me, but Alice and Bella insisted on being a team together; whenever their letters were bad, they made up words like _unparrot_. When I asked Bella to use it in a sentence, she said: _Don't unparrot my words back to me. _They should have lost their turn for that ridiculous move, but I let the twenty-point word stand.

After Alice went to bed, Bella and I stared at each other across the coffee table.

"I guess we should go to bed," Bella said.

"That sounds like a good idea." I winced at how that sounded. "I mean, it's good to be well-rested."

We walked up the stairs together, but as soon as we were in my bedroom it became awkward.

"Um," Bella said. "Would you like to get ready first?"

"You're my guest, you go first." I sat on the edge of my bed as Bella disappeared into the bathroom. This shouldn't have been awkward. She'd been in my room before. We'd slept in this bed together recently and nothing untoward had happened. Why was this so awkward?

Bella emerged from the bathroom in a midnight blue negligee. The neck came down in a V, and I knew then that I might as well go back downstairs and work. Sleep would be impossible.

"The bathroom's all yours." Bella gestured at the door, and I went into the bathroom with forced casualness.

After I was in the bathroom an obscene amount of time, mentally preparing myself to lie in bed with Bella, there was a knock. "Edward? Are you okay?"

My cheeks burned as I realized what she must think. "I'll be out in a moment, Bella."

I felt self-conscious as I stepped out of the bathroom in my boxers, which was ridiculous—Bella had seen me in less. Fortunately, the lights were already off and Bella was already in bed under the duvet. I eased under the covers without touching her and faced away from her.

It was Bella who broke the silence. "The Volturi were there, in North Carolina, listening and watching while I gave my statement."

I shifted in Bella's direction. This was the first time she had mentioned anything that happened related to the deposition.

"It was awful, Edward," she said, burying her head in my shoulder.

My hand went to cradle her head against me automatically, and I was stuck anew by the enormity of her decision to testify against the Volturi. I remembered my disbelief when Emmett told me she was going to testify, and I remembered my decision to take Bella into my home. Somehow, between then and now, our lives had become intertwined in a tortuously wonderful way.

"You can trust me." I hoped she believed me.

"I could see them. On camera. Looking at me. I don't think Marcus took his eyes off of me the entire time. And Caius… I seriously thought he was going to find a way to kill me through the TV screen. Aro was the scariest, because he didn't look at me once."

"You don't have to testify- it's not too late to back out."

"After I gave sworn testimony? Yeah, I think it is a little late."

"You could always recant it. We could run away somewhere together for a while until the media circus died down."

Bella was silent for several seconds. "You would really run away with me? What about your work?"

"The first thing you learn when you run a company is that no one is irreplaceable. I'm no exception."

Bella was silent so long, I thought she had gone to sleep. I knew she was awake; her breathing wasn't regular enough for sleep.

"I have to testify," she said.

"No one has to do anything."

"I'm not the strongest person or the smartest, but I can testify. And after everything I've been through to this point, I _will_ testify."

The quiet determination in her voice hit me hard. "I know I am being selfish, but I don't want you to testify. I don't want you to have to pretend to be someone else and shy away from cameras. I want you to enjoy life."

Bella laid her small hand on my chest and propped herself up on her side. "Edward, I am enjoying life. No matter what happens later, this is the happiest I've ever been. You make me happy."

And then, because her words lit a fire in me, I kissed her.

It wasn't the chaste kiss of last weekend. I put everything I had into this kiss: the desire, the admiration, the uncertainty, the affection, and the lust. She kissed me back with equal fervor, and I teetered on the brink of a great chasm that was black and unknown.

When my sanity came back, I tried to pull away. Though my lust for her had grown exponentially since I first saw her in my guest room wearing only a towel, I had always restrained myself. Bella deserved better than for me to paw her like an animal. And while I had occasionally slipped up in public, I had done my best to maintain a gentlemanly decorum in private.

I broke the liplock, but I didn't count on Bella's passion. Her warm mouth and wet tongue lavished me with attention. Her fingers trailed along the waistband of my boxers, tempting and promising, and I was lost. If this was what she wanted, then I no longer had the strength to say no… not when my memory was set on an endless loop of her saying, _You make me happy_.

I slipped my hands up and under her negligee, pulling it over her head with one hand while the other stroked the smooth skin along her side. She moaned and grasped her fingers around me, and I hardened under her touch. We kissed again, our mouths moving together as our bodies pressed against each other. In the past, the air between us had been charged with electricity and nerves and tension. Tonight was different; the electricity was still there, but the nerves and tension had been replaced by an ease that I couldn't identify.

Bella's hand moved along my length, but I stopped her. Tonight was about her; about showing her that I deserved the compliment she'd paid me; about showing her that I cared for her. I moved us so that Bella was on her back and I was over top of her, and I took my time kissing each piece of skin from her forehead to top of her panties.

With one last look at Bella to make sure this was what she wanted, I slid her panties down her legs and set them aside. My room was dark, too dark to see much of her, but what I couldn't see, my memory filled in the gaps. I'd hungered for this, for her.

"Edward, you don't have to…"

I stroked her gently with my fingers, familiarizing myself with her contours. My fingertips sampled her wetness, and then spread it around.

"Mmm," she said, as I lowered my head to breathe her in.

The scent of her arousal mixed with the floral lotion she used on her legs was a heady combination. I traced circles along Bella's inner thighs with my tongue until she began to squirm. I lapped up her essence with my tongue, savoring the taste as Bella quivered and moaned at my ministrations.

"Lift your hips," I instructed. When her hips were off the bed, I slid a pillow beneath them to improve my angle. I spread her legs further apart and started again. I focused my mouth on her most sensitive spot and slipped a finger inside her, moving it in time with my tongue.

Her thighs clenched around me and she cried out my name as her fingers knotted in my hair.

She was beautiful.


	18. June 14 June 20, 2008

**A/N:** THANK YOU for still reading. All of you. I was overwhelmed by the response to the last chapter. I read and appreciate every single review.

Other important acknowledgments & thanks: Oxymoronic8's suggestions improved the chapter immeasurably. Michellephants saved me from typo shame.

* * *

**Chapter 18**

**

* * *

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**Monday, April 30, 2007**

"Good morning, Marie." Aro's voice was silky, and I knew that meant we were going to spend the day concentrating on my so-called career development. I'd had three such days in the past, and none of them had been enjoyable.

"Good morning, Aro," I kept my voice low and sweet, hoping to keep him from recognizing my intense distaste at the idea of spending time with him.

While Aro was more stable than, say, Caius, that didn't mean a whole lot. Visitors always thought Aro was the good brother, the one who was fair and listened to everyone. But I knew better. I could hear him on the phone sometimes, and the things he said behind closed doors were anything but kind. For now, he seemed fond of me for some inexplicable reason. That did not comfort me, though. I was quite certain that my position was as precarious as anyone else's—perhaps more so for having started out in his good graces.

"I was thinking," he said, and paused for dramatic effect.

Aro was quite the drama queen. The urge to roll my eyes overwhelmed me.

"Why don't we spend the day together? Clear your calendar, I'll be in to fetch you in a few minutes."

When he was safely away, I allowed myself a scoff. There was nothing of consequence on my calendar for the entire day, and he undoubtedly knew it.

An hour later, we were tucked into a booth in the corner of Aro's favorite Italian restaurant. It was closed before 11:00 A.M., but exceptions were always made for Aro. I doubt he called in advance, but the staff was well-prepared for his arrival, as if they waited at the door with bated breath for the remote possibility he'd make an appearance. Their hard work was rewarded this morning; we graced the restaurant with our appearance at shortly after 9:00. Aro's table was ready, complete with two fresh roses in a delicate vase up against the wall.

Aro's table was the only one with roses. The other tables settled for daisies.

I folded my hands on the red and white checkered tablecloth and waited. I never spoke to Aro directly unless spoken to first. When the waiter materialized, Aro requested a glass of lemon Perrier. I asked for tap water. After our drinks arrived and the waiter had disappeared back into the kitchen, Aro gave me his brightest smile. It almost made him look normal, but I knowing him as I did, nothing could really make him seem less creepy.

"Marie, how long have you been part of Volterra now?"

"Eight months, sir."

"And in your time with us, do you feel you have learned things?"

_Tread carefully; do not admit this job alternates between boring you to tears and freaking you out. Definitely do not admit you count down the seconds until your contract expires_.

I hesitated only a fraction of a second. "I've become quite proficient at writing reports, and I've enjoyed the opportunity to make arrangements for visitors."

"I see." Smile still fixed in place, Aro sipped his Perrier. "Would you like the opportunity to do more?"

The right answer was _yes_, but I was wary of anything that would involve me spending quality time with Aro. I gave my best stab at diplomacy: "While I am always looking to do more, I would hate to have so much on my plate that I'm unable to handle my current duties."

"A fine answer, very fine."

"Thank you, sir," I said, hiding my nervousness by taking a drink of water.

"Do you have a passport?"

"No, sir."

"Obtain one. I'd like the option to send you to our Italian office if the need arises."

My eyes widened. I'd always wanted to go to Italy, but the idea of going on Volterra's dime was disturbing. Fortunately, Aro assumed my wide eyes meant I was so thrilled I was in shock.

He patted my hand, and I did my best not to recoil from him.

"In preparation for that glorious occasion when you make it to Italy, I'd like you to start taking on a more active role here."

Sweat seeped out on my palms as I waited for him to finish. _Active role_ sounded ominous in the extreme.

"You've greeted and made arrangements for a great many people who have come through our doors, and now I feel you can be entrusted with helping us address our visitors more directly."

"What does that mean?" I cut in. Immediately, I regretted interrupting.

Aro shot me a reproving look and continued as though I hadn't spoken. "One of our primary goals at Volterra is to obtain information. Do you know why that is, Marie?"

I shook my head. I had guesses, but I had a feeling he wanted a particular answer.

"We obtain information at Volterra because knowledge is power." He took another sip from his Perrier; from the neutral expression on his face, we could have been discussing something as mundane as the weather. "You're young and give off the appearance of innocence. I've arranged for you to take lessons from Heidi on the art of asking questions and finding out answers."

"Like how to interrogate people?"

"Interrogation is such an uncouth word," he answered.

I waited for him to go on, to correct me, but he never did.

* * *

**Saturday, June 14, 2008**

Last night really happened.

Weeks of thinking and wishing and dreaming had finally materialized into _something_. And that something was wonderful, because I was waking up in bed next to Edward. As I rubbed my head against his shoulder, his fingers came up to stroke my hair and I realized he was somewhat awake.

"G'morning, Bella," he murmured.

My heart sang in response, and my lips curved into a smile—a minor miracle given that I was not a morning person. His hair was mussed in ten different directions, and his eyes were heavy with sleep, but he looked like a dream to me. My name sounded heavenly coming from his lips, leading me to the conscious realization that I had come to think of myself as Bella over the last few months. If someone were to call out "Marie" in a crowded room, I wouldn't even turn my head. Thoughts like that were unsettling, and I pushed them away, choosing to focus instead on the here and now.

Edward rolled to face me, and I could feel, well, _all _of him press up against me.

And then there was a knock at the door.

I stifled a giggle at the irritated expression on his face. I could afford to be relaxed—the best orgasm of my life happened last night. Edward, however, had insisted last night was about me and refused to let me make any attempts at pleasuring him. My experience with men was limited, but it didn't take a genius to figure out he would want to even things out at some point—and based on his face, he had been hoping for this morning. Clearly he hadn't bargained on Alice.

"Sleepyheads! Up and at 'em. It's burning daylight."

"Go away, Alice," Edward growled.

"I will not," she sang back in a cheerful tone as she cracked the door open. "I'm a guest in your house, so you can't tell me to go away. Besides, Bella needs to come shopping with me, and the boutique opens at 10:00."

A muscle in Edward's jaw twitched. "Will you close the damn door already?"

The door banged shut. Alice was anything but patient, and arguing with her was futile. Edward knew it too, because he groaned and rolled out of bed—but not before he sent me a smoldering look that heated me all the way down to the tips of my toes.

I didn't want to get out of bed.

"I don't want you to leave." His voice was pouty as he leaned over me and brushed a stray lock of hair off my cheek.

I basked in the affectionate gesture. I hadn't wanted to sleep last night because of an irrational fear that it was a one-time thing. The act of him touching my cheek was a promise it would happen again, and I beamed at him.

There was pounding on the door, followed by Alice's muffled voice. "I'm not kidding. We need to be on the road!"

Edward rolled his eyes, and I sighed. I reluctantly slid out of bed. As I walked to the closet, I brushed against him more than was appropriate and he caught my fingers in his hand and drew them to his lips.

"We'll have time later," he said.

"We better," I mumbled.

Less than an hour later, Alice and I were en route to her favorite boutique, and I had even managed to work the GPS. Alice was pouting because she missed her Porsche, which she hadn't been able to fit comfortably into for the last month. With her being due any day now, she didn't fit behind the steering wheel well, so we were making do with my driving and Edward's staid Mercedes.

"You know Alice," I said pointedly, "not everyone needs to arrive at a store the moment it opens."

"Is there anything about me that would lead you believe I'm like other people?"

I tried again. "Maybe Edward and I had the door closed for a reason."

"Oh!"

I glanced over at Alice and saw understanding wash over her face. _Finally_. "So maybe tomorrow, you could, you know, wait until we're up until you start talking about shopping."

"Bella, Bella, Bella. You and Edward are together every night. I'm here a mere week. Don't you want to spend time quality time with your future sister? It might be months before I have the energy to go shopping after little Joshua Carlisle arrives."

I bit my tongue. Of course Alice would think Edward and I had all night, every night together. If she knew how things really were… I was pretty certain she wouldn't be making me try on dresses for Edward's birthday party until late afternoon.

The day was interminable, but I tried my best to be a good sport as Alice dragged me from store to store. When she was satisfied with the dress, the shoes, the handbag, and the jewelry, finally we went home. To my intense disappointment, we arrived home to an empty house. Edward was gone, and he hadn't even left a note.

Alice and I talked and played games late into the night, but around midnight I gave up on Edward and went to bed.

* * *

**Sunday, June 15, 2008**

Edward was still sleeping, he was on his side, and his arms were wrapped around me as tightly as a corset. I pried myself from his grip with as few movements as possible. I had no idea what time he came home, so I tried to be quiet as I gathered my clothes to dress and head downstairs. Alice was already up, sitting at the kitchen table, with a ceramic cup and a pile of papers in front of her. The coffeepot was across the room on the corner; it was full nearly to the brim.

"Would you like some coffee?" I offered. I didn't want her to have to stand up more than necessary. Alice would never admit it, but our errands yesterday had tired her out. She was a natural tornado of energy, but even a force of nature had to slow down at almost thirty-nine weeks pregnant.

"I already have some." She tapped her cup.

I looked at the full pot again. "You do?"

Alice laughed her bell-like laugh; she sounded like Esme. "I couldn't give up coffee entirely, so I've been having a quarter cup every morning and filling the rest of the cup with milk. It's a deal I have with JC."

"Would you like an omelet?"

"You're a saint." She grinned. "I would love one. I wanted something substantial, but the idea of cooking was repulsive."

Something clicked, and I looked harder at the pile of paper in front of Alice. "Are those takeout menus in front of you?"

"Would you believe no one wants to deliver breakfast food to me?"

I giggled. Only Alice would try to have Sunday brunch delivered to her. Though if her cooking skills were anything like her brother's, finding decent takeout on Sunday morning was a better option than cooking.

I hummed as I prepared breakfast, and Alice harmonized with me. It felt comfortable being with her like this, and I wondered if this was what I had missed by virtue of being an only child. When I put the omelet and home fries in front of Alice, she went at the food as though she'd never eaten before. Her plate was clean before my food was half gone.

"So," Alice said.

I looked up from my omelet to see her plate set to the side, her hands folded in front of her, and a beatific smile on her face. Somehow I knew this was going to be an uncomfortable conversation.

"Is it safe to assume, based on your comments yesterday, that you and Edward are doing well together again?"

I schooled my features as best I could. Not only was this none of Alice's business, but it was dangerous territory.

"Bella Lawson-soon-to-be-Cullen, I see that twinkle in your eye!" Alice exclaimed.

Yep, I was a horrible liar. I couldn't keep the silly grin off my face when she called me out.

"Tell me how _in_ _lurve_ you are with my brother. Confess all to Sister Alice."

"Let's just say that lately I've remembered all the reasons I fell in love with him in the first place." It was a safe answer, and it was unlikely she would let me go so easily, but there was no harm in trying.

"Like what?"

I cringed. This was going to be embarrassing. "You don't need examples. He's your brother, don't you think hearing that stuff would be kind of uncomfortable?"

Alice shook her head. "I'm sitting here, with the baby at station zero pressing right up against the door in the most miserable way. I need distractions. And besides, you owe me."

"I owe you?" I frowned.

"Yes, you do. I walked in before you got too far with Mr. Gardener those months ago. Aren't you grateful for that now?"

Her tone was teasing; there was no malice behind it. To her, it was done and over and it had now moved into the realm of something that could be joked about. I wasn't quite in the same place yet. Granted, she did me a favor by keeping me from marking virginity off my list with Jake, but…

"I am grateful you walked in when you did, but I'm not grateful that you decided to blab to the whole family about it. So I think we're even on that score." The last time Alice and I had discussed this, I'd groveled because I needed to make peace with her any way I could. Now, though, she was a friend. And friends don't screw over other friends. In retrospect, I could understand her telling Edward, and it hadn't mattered she'd told Emmett and Rose, but was it really necessary to tell Edward's parents?

Alice stared at me a moment in surprise and then blinked rapidly several times. Assertiveness was not my forte, but she needed to know that blabbing was not okay. In her world, everyone kissed up to her and catered to her because she was Alice Whitlock née Cullen, and no one wanted to offend her.

She hesitated, then took in a deep breath. "How long have you been upset about this? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Honestly? It didn't matter how mad I was at you – I needed Edward to forgive me, and family is important to him."

"Bella, if I had known you then the way I know you now, I never would have told everyone. I was super angry, and I acted without thinking about the repercussions if the two of you put your relationship back together. I'm sorry." Her eyes welled with tears, and I felt a rush of guilt for making the pregnant woman cry.

I leaned across the table to hug Alice. "No permanent harm done, and honestly, I'd already forgiven you." She had been forgiven, but now that she'd apologized I could finally let go of my resentment. "You were trying to protect your brother, and I thank you for loving him so much."

"You really do love him, don't you?"

"I do." As I said it, I realized it was true.

There was a noise behind me, and Edward strolled into the kitchen, already showered and dressed. He smiled at both of us, and I gave him a watery smile in return. I had no idea how much, if any, of my conversation with Alice he had overheard. If he had heard, and with my luck, that was the most likely scenario… Would he think I meant it, or would he assume that I was saying what I had to, to maintain the charade? What did I want him to think?

*******

"Where were you last night?"

It was late afternoon, and we'd decided to take a quick dip in the pool while Alice napped. The sky was cloudy, but the weather was pleasant. The water was up to my waist, and I was making ripples in the water by sculling with my hands just under the surface.

"Checking up on me, are you?" Edward's tone was light, but his eyes were serious. He dived under the water and swam several strokes. He surfaced a few yards away from me, his hair slicked back and wet.

My eyes lingered on his sculpted abs. I was an idiot for suggesting that we swim. I should have insisted we go straight up to his bedroom and pick up where we left off yesterday morning—but I did want to know where he was last night.

"Not checking up, more like curious. Don't worry, I'm not turning into an insane fiancée."

Edward waded through the water until his body was inches from mine. "I'm not trying to keep secrets from you, you know that, right?"

I didn't know anything when he was dizzyingly close. I must have nodded or something, because he kept talking.

"Some of the things I do, it's better if you don't know what they are."

"But you're not trying to keep secrets," I repeated. My Edward-addled brain was growing more confused by the minute.

"Right."

"Wait. Then why are you keeping a secret?"

Instead of answering, he leaned in and kissed me. Or perhaps the kiss was the answer, because it lit me up from the inside out.

I loved him, and it felt like, while we kissed, that maybe he loved me too.

My breathing was heavy when we parted, and I wanted to be closer to him more than anything else. "Instead of a swimming lesson, we could take this upstairs?"

Edward's expression went from lusty to regretful. "If we take it upstairs, I won't be able to leave you tonight."

"You're leaving?" Now I was really confused.

"Please, don't ask. It's something I have to do. You'll see me tomorrow, I promise."

"But-"

"Please?" His eyes pleaded with me, and I could deny him nothing.

We finished our swimming lesson, and then we went our separate ways for the evening.

That night, I dreamt Edward was in middle of a pack of wolves. I woke up in a cold sweat, afraid for him. He still wasn't home. I tried to convince myself that it was only a dream, that he was fine. As I struggled to go back to sleep, I hugged his pillow tightly.

* * *

**Monday, June 16, 2008**

It was early in the afternoon; Edward was at work and Alice was off doing something for some uppity organization called the DAR. Neither of them would be back until dinner time. Of Alice's absence I had made absolutely certain, because Jake was working out in the garden. Alice assumed he'd been fired after the incident she walked in on, and neither Edward nor I had bothered to correct her.

I wanted to see Jake. Yes, I was close to the Cullen family now, and it was wonderful, but Jake was different. He reminded me of the world I came from, a world of blue collars and people saying what they meant. A world where having a good time meant going out for a campfire on the beach rather than taking in the symphony. I'd always preferred the symphony, but that didn't mean there wasn't a part of me that very much missed the feeling of nostalgia from being around someone like Jake.

Jake was Edward's opposite, and in some way he stood for everything I'd left behind that I never knew I wanted to hold onto. The Cullens were model citizens who helped the poor through their charity work, but none of them had ever been poor. I doubted Edward had ever been denied anything in his life, and I couldn't envision him doing manual labor. If Jake and Edward were opposites and I was more like Jake, what did that mean? That Edward and I were opposites? Edward and I were never supposed to be together, never supposed to care for each other beyond perhaps a camaraderie that would have developed from me living in his house.

But something went wrong somewhere along the way… I fell in love with Edward.

_I love him_, I repeated to myself, trying the words out in my head. He had his flaws, and I was still a little sensitive about the whole Tanya incident, but no one was perfect. Those flaws were of no consequence compared to the feelings I had for him, and that scared me.

There was no way to know how much of my current life was ephemeral, how much would only last until the trial, how much Edward cared for me. But I wanted to find out. I'd spent too much of my life enduring, waiting for things to end. When my mother had cancer, I took care of her. I watched her deteriorate before my eyes, and I loved her and cared for her as best I could through her first recovery. It was the hardest thing I'd ever done. When I was in high school, I found most of my classmates petty and uninteresting, so I endured them until it ended. After college, I knew I had to wait until my contract with Volterra was done to start my real life. Now I was waiting for the trial, whenever that would be, and it was simultaneously awful and wonderful.

Jake was still out in the garden, and I decided to pay him a visit. I still had no idea what he had been discussing with Edward before the deposition, and I had ceased to care. Whatever it was, it was between them.

I stood on the porch for a few minutes, pondering whether talking to Jake was really a good idea. If Alice came home…

There was no reason for Alice to come home, and Jake was my friend, regardless of all the other things that had transpired, so into the back yard I went.

"Bella!" Jake exclaimed, a broad smile on his face. "You're okay!"

"Yeah, I'm still alive," I said cautiously, as the cold tendril of suspicion curled around my heart. "Were you expecting me otherwise?"

Edward and Emmett knew my secret, but Jake did too. Had I been wrong to entrust Jake with it?

"Well, after the deposition, I thought you might be a little freaked…"

"How do you know about the deposition?" My voice came out higher pitched than normal. I darted a glance behind me. There was no way I could make it back to the safety of the house if Jake wanted to cause me harm.

"Relax, Bells, relax. What do you think I'm going to do? Murder you or something?"

He hit way too close to the truth. I blanched.

"What is wrong with you? I know about the deposition because Edward told me."

"He told you?"

"Yeah. He wanted me to do him a favor, you know. Give a little alibi for where you were so people wouldn't get suspicious. He didn't tell you?"

"No."

"And here I thought you were coming out here to thank me."

"Um, thanks."

Jake rolled his eyes. "If you weren't coming out here to thank me, why were you? Finally get tired of Mr. High-And-Mighty and come looking for a real man?"

I held back a laugh. I probably should have been offended, but the idea that Jake was a "real man" compared to Edward was ridiculous—Jake was practically a kid. "I just wanted to see how you were doing. We haven't talked in a while."

"How's your list coming along?" Jake tucked his thumbs in his pockets and smiled down at me.

"It's not, not really." He looked so earnest, I didn't want to mention that I'd thrown it away.

"Oh."

An awkward pause stretched between us, and I looked anywhere but at him. This was not how I envisioned our conversation going when I decided to come outside. Several yards away, a blue plastic cooler was sitting on the grass. It was out of place on Edward's well-manicured lawn.

"Is that your cooler?" I asked, struggling for a topic of discussion.

"Yeah. Seth and I were fishing this morning, and I didn't have time to take the fish back home before I got here." Jake smiled at me. "We're going to fry them up tonight at the Clearwaters' if you want to come."

I hadn't eaten fried fish since… well, not since before my father passed away. I had a surge of nostalgia. This was why I came out here. My dad would have liked Jake.

"I wish I could, but Edward's sister is in town, and it's better if I'm here." It was true and my regret was genuine, but also, Edward would blow a gasket if I were seen hanging out with Jake.

Jake's eyes narrowed. "Tell me you're not spending time with the bitch who walked in on us."

"She's not a bitch," I snapped. Jake's antics were wearing thin.

He plowed on, ignoring my irritation. "They've completely brainwashed you, haven't they?"

"Jake, she thought Edward and I were engaged. She was upset. That doesn't make her a bad person."

"That's not what I'm talking about. That whole family has their noses so high in the air that I'm surprised their necks still function."

I gave Jake a tight smile. "I'm sorry you feel that way."

Our friendship wasn't going to work, no matter how much I wanted to. Was it that Jake and Edward came from incompatible worlds, or was it just that Jake had a chip on his shoulder? Would my dad have liked Edward? Before Jake could say anything else, I was on my heel and going back to the house.

*******

Alice beat Edward home by an hour.

I was happy to see her… but she wasn't Edward.

We filled our time together up with chatting, and I angled my kitchen chair so that I could surreptitiously watch the clock. As the big hand made it to the twelve and the little hand was on the six, Edward burst into the kitchen. His eyes were bright and his expression was impish, and then he saw Alice. His excitement toned down significantly.

I stifled a giggle—I would bet anything that Edward had hoped to beat Alice home. Because he was Edward, he recovered quickly, and the sparkle was back in his eye before his sister noticed anything amiss. The three of us had a nice dinner together, watched a movie afterward, and then finally, _finally_, it was time for bed.

I went up first while Edward responded to some work emails.

Never did I think I would have use for the ridiculous piles of lingerie Alice had selected for me when I moved in, but I was glad of them tonight. From the pile of silks in my drawer, I selected a black negligee with thin straps and plenty of lace. It wasn't too revealing, but black was supposed to be a sexy color.

I finished getting ready for bed and then went out into the bedroom. Edward was still downstairs, so I took the opportunity to check my hair in the mirror over the dresser. It had grown a bit since I'd had it all cut off in March, but it was still short enough to have a mind of its own.

I saw him in the mirror behind me before I heard him.

His top buttons were unbuttoned. His shirt sleeves were rolled up. His hair was mussed. Five o'clock shadow darkened his jaw line.

His approach paralyzed me.

When he reached me, he didn't say a word. He put a hand on my shoulder, spun me around, and kissed me.

His hands slid up under my gown, and I went straight for the fastener on his slacks to push them down. Edward nuzzled my neck, covering it with tiny kisses.

We made out as we stripped, and when we were both naked, I feasted in the sight of Edward. I'd only ever seen him naked once before, and I had been so nervous and tipsy that I hadn't _appreciated _it as much as I could have.

"See something you like?" Edward asked, his voice husky enough to make me shiver in anticipation.

"Oh yeah."

"So do I," he said, pushing me back so that I fell onto the bed.

The movement was so sudden, and the way he landed on top me matched our parts up so precisely, that I stiffened a little in spite of myself.

"Relax, Bella. We're not going to have sex." He laughed lightly as he said it, but I failed to find anything funny about his comment.

"We're not?" I sounded like a whiny schoolgirl, but I didn't care. This was foreplay! I was a little naïve sometimes, but I was pretty sure that getting naked and being in bed together meant sex to just about everyone.

Edward's laughter stopped and he said softly, "Do you feel ready to have sex right now?"

"I do," I insisted.

"There's no reason to rush. I promise, this will be sweeter if we wait until we're a little more comfortable together."

"There's every reason to rush! I don't want to waste a minute of time with you. Life is uncertain, remember?" No one knew that better than me. I still regretted not going to see _Phantom of the Opera_ with my mother before she died. She'd been cancer-free for five years. I thought I had all the time in the world, but fate had other ideas.

Edward moved off of me so that he was beside me instead of on top of me. "You think this," and his hand gestured between the two of us, "is wasted time?"

I blushed fiercely. "Well, no. But I want us to be able to get to the main event."

"Has no one ever told you that patience is a virtue?" As he spoke, his fingers traced my side and his tongue darted along the underside of my bosom.

I drew in a shaky breath. "I didn't realize you were known for your patience."

"I'm not. If I were patient, we would be having a serious discussion downstairs over a glass of wine as we got to know each other better."

"Oh." I was reduced to incoherence then, as his fingertips moved to my inner thighs.

So lost in sensation was I, that I only half heard him as he kept talking: "I've made a lot of mistakes with you, Bella, and I'd like to set some of them right."

He set a _lot _of things right that night.

* * *

**Tuesday to Thursday, June 17 - 19, 2008**

On Tuesday, Alice and I visited Rosalie and the girls in the afternoon.

While Alice played with Libby and Emma, I told Rosalie how things were going with Edward. Ten minutes later, Rosalie was telling Alice how much she missed seeing her and invited her over for dinner.

There would be a special place in heaven for Rosalie.

Edward and I had a real date. We went to dinner somewhere fancy enough that they brought me a black napkin to put on the lap of my dark dress instead of a white napkin. It wasn't all that different from our pretend dates of the past in some respects, but it felt completely different. Afterwards, we played pool at a bar until late into the night.

***

On Wednesday, our swimming lesson was full of inappropriate groping.

Best swimming lesson _ever_.

***

On Thursday, we had a family dinner with Edward's parents.

We eye-fucked each other across the table the entire time.

* * *

**Friday, June 20, 2008**

We approached the house. I looked out the window, at the trees, at the street. I looked anywhere and everywhere except at Edward. My face was an open book, and if I looked him, he would know.

"Bella? Is there something I should know?"

_Damn. He knew anyway._ "Um, no. Why would there be?"

"You haven't looked at me since we left the restaurant."

"Is that a crime?"

"So there's nothing I need to know before we get home?" Edward persisted.

"No, there's nothing," I huffed, still determinedly looking out the passenger window while I texted Esme that we were almost there. I wasn't fooling him at all, but I needed to at least maintain the charade so that I could look Alice and Esme in the eye later.

I watched as Edward entered the code at the gate. My heart started to beat faster as we drove around the bend in the driveway and pulled into the garage. My eyes were averted from him, but I could feel him looking at me as he paused in front of the door to the house before opening it with a flourish.

I plastered a smile on my face, hoping my cheeks weren't too red. Everyone was there.

There was a split-second pause, and then one-hundred fifty of Edward's friends, acquaintances, and business associates yelled, "Surprise!"

Edward leaned down toward my ear and said in voice pitched so low that only I could hear it, "May I ask what possessed you, that you might think a spectacle of this nature was necessary?"

I saw Jessica shoot us a glare, and my smile went from fake to genuine as I realized that Edward and I looked like a real couple. I turned to face him and stood on my tiptoes so that I could whisper in his ear, "I care about you, remember? And your mother and sister were going to throw you this party whether I helped or not." I kissed his cheek, and let my hand linger on his shoulder a little longer than necessary.

That was our moment, and it ended too quickly. Edward was pulled in one direction to greet people while Esme took me by the arm to introduce me around.

When we finally had a moment to breathe, I said to Esme, "I tried to keep it a secret, but he knew. I'm sorry."

She laughed and smiled at me, a twinkle in her eye. "Of course he did, darling. It's his thirtieth birthday. There was no way we were going to forget."

"So you don't think it was my fault?"

"Of course not. If anything, he probably enjoyed making you feel uncomfortable about it."

Jessica chose that minute to walk by, her dress brushing against my arm.

Esme's eyes narrowed. "Rude, isn't she?"

"We've, um, run into each other before." Admitting things to Esme was not the same as admitting things to Rose, and I found myself hesitant to tell her about the wine incident that happened back in March.

"Oh?" Esme arched a sculpted eyebrow.

"I may have accidentally dumped wine across a designer dress of hers." Her expression didn't change, and I couldn't lie to her, so I added, "I guess it wasn't really an accident."

Esme leaned forward and said softly, so the words carried only to me, "Of course it wasn't, but you should never admit that in public where anyone could hear."

I blinked. Was Esme advocating lying?

"Don't look so shocked, Bella. I know this isn't the world you come from, but you're going to have to adapt if you want to be happy with Edward."

"Is there anything else I should know?"

Esme gave me a kind smile and looked across the room. "Now is probably an excellent time to ask Edward to dance."

I turned to follow her gaze, and I saw Tanya, the girl Edward had kissed all those weeks ago, with the palm of her hand flat against his chest as she simpered up at him. I took a deep breath. I could do this. It didn't matter that she knew him first. It didn't matter that he kissed her first. He wasn't kissing her now, and I was reasonably certain he wasn't going to. Edward might not love me the way I loved him, but there was something between us. I might not have forever with Edward, but I was going to cling to all the moments I had without Tanya interfering. She was tall and statuesque and rich, but I was… well, I was the one in bed with Edward, so that had to count for something, right? I must have looked very determined when I stood up, because I saw Esme stifle a laugh.

Rosalie was by my side in a moment, walking with me. "Thought you might like some company."

"Do I look lost?"

"No, but I always like to have a front row seat when people stand up for themselves."

The closer we got to Edward and Tanya, the madder I was, until we got within earshot. Then my nerve flagged a bit. She was unspeakably gorgeous, and I was just, well, me. What if he didn't back me up? What if he was going to kiss her again, here, in front of his whole family? What if all those late nights he was working were really times he spent with Tanya and he just didn't want to hurt my feelings?

The _what ifs _were starting to drown out my determination, until Rosalie said quietly, "There's a reason there's no ring on her finger."

I drew strength from those words, but Edward was what made the difference. His face lit up when he saw me. Buoyed with confidence, I walked directly up to Edward and inserted myself under his arm. Now I was on one side, under Edward's arm, and Tanya was on the other side, her hand still touching him.

In my best sugary sweet voice, I said to Tanya, "Goodness, I don't think we've met. I'm Bella, Edward's fiancée, and you're hanging all over him. Perhaps you can move along so Edward and I can dance."

Tanya blinked. "But you don't dance."

I ignored her. "Shall we, Edward?"

I tried to keep the triumphant smirk off my face while we danced, I really did. This wasn't about one-upping Tanya. It was about me and Edward. Okay, maybe it was a little bit about one-upping Tanya, but it was _mostly _about me and Edward. When I came back to myself, I realized Edward was watching me with laughing eyes.

"Was that therapeutic?" he asked.

I stuck my tongue out at him. "If you would have told her to get lost in the first place, it wouldn't have been needed."

"But then you wouldn't have had your moment of triumph, and I didn't want to rob you of that."

"I wouldn't have needed a moment of triumph if you'd have kept your lips to yourself." I kept the smile fixed on my face as I spoke. Things were going too well between us for me to want to ruin it with an old bitterness.

Edward sighed. "If I could go back in time and take it back, I would. You know that, don't you?"

"Would you really?" I believed him, and my heart fluttered in a most delightful way.

"Bella, I kissed her to distract me from _you_. I was trying to be a gentleman."

"Your logic isn't any better than mine--"

"I know," he said, as he covered my mouth with his. All feelings, guilt or anger or otherwise, evaporated in the heat of our kiss. We were two live wires and electricity crackled between us.

As a way of stopping our argument it was kind of cheating, but that was Edward. He wasn't above bending the rules. I should have protested on principle, but his mouth was pressing against mine urgently and I knew Tanya could still see us.

Our dance (and kiss) ended all too quickly. It was Edward's birthday party, which meant that I couldn't monopolize him. He had social obligations, and he disappeared when the music switched. A little lost without him by my side, I surveyed the party.

One whole section of the room seemed to be dedicated to people who were at the table with me and Edward at the gala we attended a couple of weeks ago. Laurent was here with Jessica. Victoria was here with what's-his-name. I tried briefly to remember who he was, but I decided that if I never saw her again it would be too soon, so hopefully I'd be able to avoid her significant other. And then I saw another couple, and realized he was at our table at that night too.

Esme was nearby, so I approached her. "Is his name Jason?" I gestured across the room as subtly as I could.

"Yes, and his wife is named Melinda."

Esme smiled and took me by the arm.

"Did I do something wrong?" I whispered.

"Of course not. But remember, dear, that you are the hostess tonight. Greet your guests."

"But I don't know half of these people."

"They all know you, so take comfort in that. Start on one side of the room and work your way around. I have every confidence you can do this, Bella."

I wanted to hyperventilate. Esme and Alice did most of the planning for this fancy shindig. I knew some of the people peripherally, but none of the people well. I wanted to ask Alice for help, but she was still having Braxton-Hicks contractions and was settled on a sofa with her feet up. I considered asking Rosalie's assistance, but I decided against it—she would tell me to grow a spine.

It wasn't as hard as I thought it would be. The names I couldn't remember didn't matter that much. I plastered a smile on my face, put a drink in my hand, and went from person to person to thank them for coming. I even thanked Jessica and Lauren and managed to sound halfway sincere, which was more than Jessica managed.

It was with a touch of triumph that I completed my circle around the first floor. The only things that hurt were my feet. I collapsed onto a barstool at the kitchen island and kicked off my too-high heels. I took a long sip of my drink, tinto de verano, a mix of lemonade and red wine—the party food was based around a Spanish theme—and let myself relax.

It took me several seconds to realize I was sitting next to Emmett.

I gave him a tentative smile. Things hadn't been the same between us lately, and I knew it was because of Edward. Emmett did not approve of the personal nature of my relationship with Edward, and quite honestly, I hadn't completely forgiven him for socking Edward. And then I had insisted Edward accompany us to the deposition, and that had stretched the tension even tighter.

Emmett grinned at me, and I relaxed some.

"Having a good time, Kiddo?" He took a swig of his Killian's.

"It's alright. This isn't really my scene."

Emmett looked around the room and slid a finger underneath his collar. "Me neither. But Mom would have killed me if I skipped it."

"If it makes you feel better, I think Edward would have skipped it if he could have."

"Probably true." Emmett slid his empty beer bottle across the island and right off the ledge. There was a thunk as the bottle crashed into the recycling bin.

"So what's new?"

"February 23rd is the date."

"The date for what?" My voice came out in a whisper, and my shoulders tensed.

"My cousin's wedding. She wanted me to make sure you and Edward received your save-the-date cards."

"Oh. Not yet." I forced myself to say. "They must still be in the mail." There was no cousin with a wedding date that we were waiting to hear about. The only date I was waiting to hear from Emmett was the trial date, and I was positive that was what we were discussing.

"I'm sure she'll want you to be in the wedding, so you should be hearing from her soon."

"Thanks," I said, keeping a smile on my face, even as I fell apart inside. There was a date now, and the egg-timer was wound up and ticking down to zero. Edward was in the corner, making animated small talk with several of the larger donors to the Cullen Foundation, and I let my eyes linger on him. After the trial, he would still be here, doing good work and improving the world, but where would I be?

So heavy were my thoughts that I barely noticed when Emmett stood up to leave and he was replaced by someone else.

"Do you know if there is more sangria?"

It took me a second to realize he was speaking to me, because I was the hostess. Right. "The sangria is over by Edward."

"Are you okay? You look… overwhelmed."

I brought back the fake smile. Esme was right. This was a different world, and I needed to be on my toes. "I'm fine, just a bit tired from all the party preparations." As I said it, I looked him in the eye and realized we'd met before. This was Jason Jenks, and his wife was probably around somewhere. Somehow I must have missed him when I made my earlier rounds. "Thank you for coming," I said, and I held out my hand for him to shake.

"The pleasure is mine. Edward is quite a patron of the arts, and I'm delighted to be able to wish him a happy birthday." He paused, and I thought he was going to leave and make his way over to the sangria, but he didn't. "You seem familiar to me. Have we met before?"

"Yes, we met the other night at the Treehouse Gala, remember?" My tone was easy and light; the question he gave me was an easy one.

"No, I meant before that. What did you say you did before you and Edward were engaged? I feel like I know you from somewhere."

I spit out whatever story Edward had made me memorize a few months ago, but as I spoke I could feel panic encroaching. Could he really know me from somewhere? What were the odds of that? But odds didn't matter for Marie Swan—the only kind of luck she had was bad. I wracked my brain trying to figure out if it was possible we were truly acquainted.

Jason smiled at me when I finished speaking. "It must just be a coincidence then. Thank you for having us tonight."

I watched him make his way over to the punch bowl. Edward needed to know about this new development, but it was going to have to wait until after the party. Maybe by then I could remember exactly who he was. I scanned the room one more time. Everything seemed to be going well, but there was a commotion over by the sofa. Emmett, Rosalie, Esme, and Carlisle were all hovering by where I had seen Alice lounging. My feet carried me there faster than I thought possible. As I approached, I could hear the Cullens speaking in low voice around Alice.

"This cannot be happening," Alice whined. "I won't let it. He's not due for four days!"

"Babies don't come on a schedule." Carlisle's voice was low and soothing. "I think it's time to go to the hospital."

"No! JC needs to stay put until Jasper gets home." She was bordering on hysteria.

"Rosalie, call the hospital and let them know we're coming."

"Jasper will make it," I said, even though I had no idea if it was true. True or not, it was what Alice needed to hear now. If it turned out he didn't make it, then we could deal with that eventuality when it came. Jasper was due back at the airport at 10:05 tonight. It would take him an hour to get out of the airport and make it to the hospital.

Alice locked eyes with me. "You really think he'll be here?"

"Yes." I reached out a hand to enclose Alice's smaller one. "He would want you to go to the hospital."

Alice bit her lip. "Maybe these are just more Braxton-Hicks contractions," she said.

"Maybe," Esme agreed.

I could see the look on Carlisle's face in my periphery, and he looked unconvinced.

Rosalie snapped her phone shut. "They're expecting you."

"Aren't you coming?" Alice asked, panicked.

"The sitter can't stay all night," Rosalie said gently.

"But you're coming, right, Bella?"

I was so surprised, I opened my mouth, but no words came out. While I had always wanted children in theory, I didn't want them soon, and I didn't want to contemplate the gory details related to a child entering the world.

"Of course we are," Edward's voice said from behind me. I jumped a little as he put a comforting hand on my shoulder.

"But, but, you can't come, Edward," Alice sputtered. "You'll miss your party!"

"Sister mine, I have a birthday every year, but Joshua Carlisle is only going to be born once."

Alice extracted her tiny hand from mine to grasp onto Edward's. Every drop of love she had for her older brother was infused in the grateful look she gave him.

It was Rosalie who broke the moment. "Don't worry about a thing, Alice. Emmett and I will take care of the party."

Alice looked at Rosalie warily, and I stifled a grin. Rosalie was not considered the diplomat of the family, and I was fairly certain it was no accident that Rosalie had not been involved in the planning of the party.

"C'mon, little sis, don't you trust us?" Emmett ruffled Alice's hair, and she cracked a smile.

Before Alice could say anything, another contraction hit her. Esme and Carlisle hustled her to the car. I went upstairs to grab myself a cardigan in case the hospital was cold and was surprised to find Rosalie already in the bedroom.

"What are you doing here?"

"Baby time is waiting time, so you're going to want comfortable shoes and clothes. I put some out on the bed for you. Hospital food sucks, so grab a snack before you leave."

"You do care."

"Of course I do. I love Alice, even if she is psycho sometimes."

I hurriedly changed my clothes after Rosalie departed downstairs for the party. On the way out, I took her advice and packed a bag of food. I met Edward in the garage, and we took off.

"She's really having a baby," I mused.

"I don't see how you can be surprised. She's been having contractions for three days."

"But they said they were fake."

Edward reached down, unclipped his phone from his belt, and handed it to me. "Will you call the airport for me?"

"The airport?"

"Jasper's in the air. His phone is off. While he'll undoubtedly turn his phone on the moment he lands, I'd rather not leave anything to chance."

"I don't have the number."

Edward sighed and took the phone back from me. I felt incompetent as I watched him. His concentration never left the road, but he spoke to at least five different people before I heard him instructing someone to let Jasper Whitlock know that his wife was in labor and to proceed directly to the hospital.

After Edward flipped the phone closed, I stared at him. "Will they really tell Jasper, on the plane, about Alice?"

"They better," Edward replied.

I blinked. It would never have occurred to me to call the airport. Instead, I would have been sitting in the hospital waiting room with my cell phone, dialing it every two minutes after Jasper's plane was due to touch down, hoping that he had turned on his phone. Edward had many fine qualities, but I'd never realized how calm and effective he was in a tense situation. It was reassuring, and I relaxed into my leather seat.

We arrived at the hospital to find that Alice had already been checked in. She was four centimeters dilated and was debating whether she wanted drugs. Only two people were allowed in the room with her at a time, so we cycled in and out in shifts.

Alice didn't mention Jasper's absence, but every five minutes she asked us what time it was. Her labor went fast. At 10:20, on June 20, 2008, Alice was fully dilated and ready to push.

Jasper wasn't there.

Alice asked me and Esme to stay with her until he arrived. Esme answered for us both, that of course we would stay. I opened my mouth to protest—I did not like hospitals, I was squeamish about babies, and the smell of blood made me nauseous—but the look on Alice's face stopped me. In that moment, I felt what it must be have a sister. I pushed back all the reasons I wanted to be in the waiting room and focused on Alice as she squeezed my hand when another contraction overtook her.

The doctor hustled Alice into position, and told her to start pushing with the next contraction. He was giving her instructions on breathing and something about counting; I only heard half of it. What I did hear was a commotion in the hallway. A nurse raising her voice that only two people were allowed in the birthing room at a time. The clock now read 10:25. It was too early to expect Jasper, but if there was any chance he made it in time…

I released Alice's hand and made for the door. The doctor glared at me, and I sheepishly told him I needed some air. He nodded, and I slipped out into the hallway. Sure enough, Jasper was involved in a heated argument with a nurse.

I cleared my throat, and said directly to the nurse, "There's only one person in the room with Alice Whitlock right now."

I wasn't even sure Jasper saw me before he whipped past the nurse and into the room. I smiled, relieved things were as they should be.

In the waiting area, Edward was anxious. "Did Jasper make it to Alice?"

"He did."

I sat down next to Edward. He handed me a cup of coffee and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. Our thighs touched, and I could feel his body heat through my jeans. It was a wonderful feeling, being this close to Edward, and for once, I felt like I actually belonged.

Alice pushed for about a half hour, and soon enough Joshua Carlisle Whitlock entered the world. He weighed six pounds, twelve ounces, and came out screaming. Alice was moved into a better room, and we were able to take our turn to visit her and the baby.

I was too nervous to hold baby Joshua, so I was relieved when Edward took the initiative to cradle him against his chest. An expression so tender crossed Edward's face when he looked at the newborn that I melted.

_I love you_, I thought silently as our eyes met.

Edward's eyes widened slightly, and I realized I must have said those words aloud. Before I could cringe or clarify or take them back, his surprise was replaced with the crooked smile I adored.

"I love you, too, Bella."

* * *

**Special notes: **

It was a long time getting here. I hope you enjoyed the extra-long chapter.


	19. June 20 to June 24, 2008

**A/N: **It's been a while. Serious thanks to both Oxymoronic8 and Withthevampsofcourse for the beta work and for holding my hand. Also serious thanks to those who are still reading.

**Chapter 19**

**Friday, September 13, 1991**

My mom was the best mom.

Some moms would have waited until the weekend to celebrate their kid's birthday, but my mom wasn't normal. I told her it was a school day, and she told me we'd have the party after school, and it would be the best party ever.

I didn't believe her, because I knew we couldn't afford to have a pizza party or anything. But Mom was right. She made a scavenger hunt around the whole neighborhood for my whole class. One old lady complained we were too loud, but all the other neighbors were nice.

We had a refreshment station on the porch with lemonade and cookies, and the lemonade was all gone. I went in the house to fetch more. There was no one in the kitchen, but I could hear my mom yelling at someone.

She never yelled. She was the fun mom.

I froze in the doorway, unsure whether to go in or stay outside.

"I said get out!"

That was when I saw him. My mom was pushing him toward the door, but he wasn't in a hurry at all. He was calm, like he wasn't afraid of Mom.

I looked at him, and he looked right back at me.

"Go to your room, Marie." Mom's voice was quiet and fierce.

"But…" It was my birthday. How could she be so mean? I didn't do anything wrong.

"Marie. Room. Now."

I stomped only a little on my way over to the stairs. When I got to the first step, I sneaked a glance back to see if Mom was watching me.

She wasn't.

She was watching the man, and he was studying me. I ran up the stairs and slammed the door to my room.

I was up there for what felt like forever before Mom came upstairs to check on me.

"Hey," she said, and her Mom smile was there, her voice normal.

"Who was that man?"

She didn't say anything right away. Instead she smoothed the hair off my forehead.

"Who was he?" I repeated, because my birthday party was ruined and I wanted to blame someone who wasn't my mom.

"Marie, I want you to promise me something."

"What?"

"Don't talk to strangers. If that man or anyone else tries to get you to go anywhere with them, scream as loud as you can and run."

We never spoke about it, and I put the whole thing out of my mind.

* * *

**Saturday & Sunday, June 20-21, 2008**

After Edward said he loved me, I froze.

Did he mean it? There were people around. Could he be playing along? Did he know I meant it?

I blinked rapidly and scanned the room for witnesses. Alice was looking at us, her eyes shining. Of course she was looking at us—Edward was holding her baby. In fact, everyone was looking at us. An unbidden tear ran down my cheek. And then another. All the emotion in the room was overwhelming.

Esme had her arm around my shoulders in an instant. "Why don't you sit down?"

She led me to a chair next to the bed, and I sank down into it.

Alice was watching me closely, and I gave her a watery smile. "He's beautiful," I said, my voice gravelly with emotion. "You're so lucky."

Alice gave me a sly little smile. "Edward has always been good with babies and children."

"We're already engaged, you don't need to sell me on his finer points."

"Oh, I know, but sometimes I wonder…" her voice trailed off and I stiffened, unsure what she meant. Before I could reply, she said, "Edward, bring me my baby."

Edward walked slowly over to the side of the bed. My head was level with his thigh, and he leaned over me at an angle to hand Joshua over to Alice. I expected him to step away from me after the baby hand-off, but he didn't. He stayed close to me and put a casual hand on my shoulder.

Alice had all of her attention focused on Joshua Carlisle Whitlock, and she cradled him in her arms. Jasper materialized in the doorway with a plate of food. I held back a smile when I saw him – of course he didn't think hospital cafeteria food was good enough for Alice.

"Sweetheart," Esme said to Alice, "your dad and I are going home unless you need us."

"I'm good, Mom."

Esme kissed Jasper on the cheek and put a hand on his shoulder. She then gave both Edward and me a significant look as she exited, and I realized we needed to give the new family some alone time. Edward helped me to my feet. We walked out of the hospital together, and he held the door for me. I thanked him shyly, still not sure where we stood. He smiled at me but his face was inscrutable.

The drive back was quiet for a while. I was nervous. In the moment he'd said he loved me, I was elated… and now I was second-guessing myself. What if it was all a show for his sister? And then another insidious thought crept in.

"Edward?"

"Yes?"

"Someone almost recognized me tonight at the party."

His knuckles went white on the steering wheel. "Who?"

"Jason Jenks."

Silence.

After a couple of minutes, Edward finally said, "Did you recognize him?"

"No."

"Tell me what he said, exactly."

"He asked what I did before I met you, because he felt like he knew me from somewhere."

I expected Edward to be shocked or freaked out, but instead he was quiet, his eyes fixed on the road in front of us.

"Maybe he knows you, maybe he doesn't. That's a common enough pick-up line in this social set."

"But he's married."

Edward laughed humorlessly. "You would think that would make a difference, but it doesn't. Promise me you'll tell me if you encounter him again."

His eyes slid from the road to search my face, and I nodded, unsure I could trust my voice. I wanted him to protect me, but I wanted to protect him, too. I couldn't promise out loud that I would do something to put him in danger.

When we arrived home, the house had already been cleaned. The only evidence a party had happened were several fancy floral arrangements gracing the island in the kitchen. Under one of the vases was a folded, white piece of paper.

I opened the note and smoothed it out. It said: _You owe us. We accept payment in cash or in kind. –RHC_

I didn't realize Edward was reading the note over my shoulder until he spoke.

"Figures."

"Huh?" I had no idea what he was talking about. It was impossible to focus when I could feel his breath tickling my neck, and our earlier conversation from the car was forgotten.

"Rosalie."

"What about her?" I didn't like where this was going, not at all.

"She can't do a nice turn for someone without demanding something in return."

"She's done plenty of nice things!"

"A little defensive, aren't we?"

"Just because you can't see the good in people…"

"Seriously? I spend my life looking for the good in people."

"And that makes it worse that you can't see it in your own family."

Edward's jaw twitched, and for a minute I thought he was going to yell at me, but instead his voice came out quiet and authoritative. "I love my family."

"Rosalie and Emmett didn't have to coordinate clean-up of the house, and I happen to think the note was a joke."

Edward sighed. "I don't want to fight with you. Not tonight."

My mouth was suddenly dry. I didn't want to fight with him either, especially if he meant what he said in the hospital. This was my moment to ask. I needed to do it now, before I lost my nerve. I had to know.

Without thinking, I put my hand on his exposed forearm. He went still.

"Didyoumeanit?" The words came out of my mouth in an almost unintelligible rush.

Edward's eyes searched mine for so long that I started to freak out. I had been so sure of him, and everything had seemed so _right_ in that moment. Now I didn't know what to think. If he could lie like that in front of other people, could I believe anything he said? I released his forearm, ready to try and laugh off his answer when it came. I couldn't let him know I loved him if he still thought this was a game.

Instead of moving away, he stepped closer to me, invading my space in a way that made my heart race. His hands found mine and enclosed them. When he spoke, he bent his head down so that a lock of his hair fell down in front of his face and brushed my forehead.

I stopped breathing and gazed at the floor.

"Bella, look at me, please."

My eyes darted up to his, and I realized my palms were probably sweating as he held my hands.

"I love you," he said simply.

A strangled noise escaped my throat, and I threw myself against his chest.

He wrapped his arms around me, and I clung to him. We stood together for a while, and when I had a little bit more strength, I gazed up at him.

"I love you, too."

I was going to say more, and bumble it, but Edward saved me by covering my mouth with his.

The kiss was playful and affectionate, and I returned it with everything I had. When we broke apart, Edward tugged me with him to our bedroom.

This was my moment. Ever since that first time we were together, I'd wanted this, wanted him again. Lusted after him, really. And now we were going to have sex!

I leaned into him, pressed my body against his, and then I screwed everything up.

I yawned.

Yes, I yawned. My life wasn't as much like a summer blockbuster as I used to think it was, because in a movie, this would have been the time the heroine and her hero had a steamy bedroom scene.

Edward gave me a little grin and looked over at the clock. "Let's get some sleep."

Maybe being curled up against Edward wasn't the same as having wildly passionate romance novel sex, but feeling his breath on my neck and having his arm wrapped around me felt pretty darn good.

Sunday morning, Edward's side of the bed was empty, and I tried to quell my frustration. He disappeared entirely too much for my comfort level. In theory, our confessions of love wouldn't change anything, but I now felt entitled to know where he was and what he was doing.

No one ever said I was a logical creature.

I considered calling his cell phone but decided that maybe things would be clearer after I took a shower and finished waking up. I brushed my teeth and turned the shower on hot.

Edward's shower was heavenly. I used the rain setting, and the water caressed me as it dripped down my body. I stayed in the shower until my cares went down the drain. Wherever Edward was, I would be okay with that. The important thing was that I had him, and he was mine.

I dried off with one of Edward's fancy, fluffy Turkish towels and wrapped it around me as I padded back out into the bedroom to fetch some clothes.

Edward was there, lounging on the bed in nothing but his boxers. His hands were tucked behind his head, and he wore a sexy half smile. Breakfast was set up on two trays, one on either side of the bed. I could see bacon, French toast, fruit, and juice.

"I hope you're hungry."

Did he mean the food, or did he mean something else?

It didn't matter what he meant, I wanted it all. But first, I had to ask, "Did you cook this?"

He laughed. "If I said yes, would you believe me?"

"Um."

"The French toast was frozen, but I microwaved the bacon all by myself."

It was with great restraint that I held back a giggle. There was no way he could have made the French toast. Honestly, I wasn't even sure he knew how to boil water. I'd seen him turn on the microwave before, so cooking the bacon was at least believable.

"Come here." He patted the bed next to him.

I hesitated. I was wearing a towel. It would be awkward to sit on the bed in a towel, but wouldn't it be more awkward to eat breakfast naked?

"There's a robe in the closet."

A robe! Yes. That was a good idea. Something about being close to Edward turned off all my good sense.

I walked over to the closet and opened the door. The closet was huge, and hanging on a hook near the front was a robe I remembered all too well from our night together. Putting it on made me blush a bit, and Edward either didn't notice or pretended not to notice.

We ate the food in ten minutes flat. Perhaps we were both a bit antsy to get to the main event.

I had waited for this, for him. And this time I was well-rested and full of energy.

I wanted him.

Oh, how I wanted him.

So when he leaned in to kiss me, I threw my whole self into it without reservation. If there was one thing I had learned from this whole witness thing, it was that life needed to be lived. It was crazy to waste time if you didn't know how much you had left.

Edward's hands caressed my shoulders through the robe, and the silky fabric rubbed against my skin sensually. Prickles of heat erupted through my body.

"Edward," I murmured as we broke apart. My fingertip traced the contour of his face. He loved me. _He loved me! _I wanted to shout it to the heavens.

I kissed him this time.

My whole body responded, like it always did, but this time, there was something else. My uncertainty was gone. Instead of desire mixed with nerves, I felt elated. I was exactly where I needed to be, and I was with the right person.

Our mouths moved against each other, and his hands continued to stroke my shoulders. He moved my hair behind my shoulder, and the palm of his hand stroked along the vee of the robe, and then continued on, under the fabric, so he was touching my bare shoulder.

My insides turned to mush, and I unknotted my robe, eager for him to have unfettered access to the rest of me. I let my hands dip below the waistband of his boxers, but not too far. This was our first round of "I love you" sex, so there was no need to rush. And it was my first time having sex without worrying about being a virgin, so there was really no need to rush.

But the last week or so had been one giant round of foreplay. And it had finally come to an end.

To heck with foreplay.

I brought in my other hand, grasped the waistband of his boxers, and pulled them down.

He gasped.

I grinned.

He pushed me down onto the bed, and for a split second, our eyes met. His body was over mine like a shield, the expression on his face tender.

"I love you," I whispered.

Our eyes locked as he entered me. The physical sensations were what I thought I craved, but this was better. This was _more_.

We belonged together.

**Monday, June 22, 2008**

**Emmett**

Last night's sleep was shit and so was the night before.

I might never sleep again.

Saturday night, Alice told me all about a touching scene at the hospital wherein Edward held baby Joshua, and then ooey-gooey professions of love followed. I almost dropped the phone.

This was Bad, and not in the Michael Jackson way. It was the worst kind of Bad. My brother was in love with Marie Swan, the witness of the century. Only I couldn't even think of her as Marie Swan anymore because she'd integrated herself into our lives as Bella.

Sunday was my day of denial. I spent all day mooning, trying to convince myself they were acting and none of it was real. That it was something they'd said because other people were there. So what if they'd snowed Alice? If they were doing their jobs right, they snowed everyone.

Today I was back at work and I had to deal with shit. Bella couldn't act her way out of a paper bag, so I knew she was sincere. And Edward, well, he was a lost cause. The L-word is serious business for him. If he thought she meant it, he'd never lead her on by saying it back to her.

I stood up and closed my office door. It was almost 8AM, so other people would be arriving soon. I needed peace and quiet to think. I also needed people to leave me alone so I could keep my massive headache at bay. I walked back to my office, sat back down in my chair, set my elbows on the desk, and put my head in my hands.

She was a witness. She was my witness. When this was all over, she was in WitSec, and she was supposed to disappear. Four months ago, I would have sworn a supermodel could have moved in with Edward he wouldn't have cared. The plan of "Bella" and Edward's engagement falling apart seemed reasonable when I conceived it. Edward's attention span for women was short, and no one but Mom had believed he was capable of a long-term relationship.

For all I knew, this might be the only chance my little brother had at love. Yeah, we had our differences, but that didn't mean I wanted to sentence him to life as a monk. And what about Bella? Given everything she'd been through, if she could find happiness with my brother, shouldn't she be able to? My girls were already calling her Aunt Bella. And that's not even considering that Baby Sis wanted Bella there at the hospital with her.

Now, with Rosalie and Alice thinking of Bella as a sister, my girls already making plans with her like she's their doting aunt, and Edward falling in love… how could she disappear from our lives? And what if I couldn't protect her? How would I explain to Libby and Emma that bad guys killed Aunt Bella?

Rosalie was going to kill me, and God only knew what she was going to have them put on my tombstone. My ability to keep things from her was sketchy at best, and this had elevated to a level where she _would_ find out. Was I sorry? Hell yeah, I was sorry I had to keep it from Rosalie. But I wasn't sorry I tried to help Bella. I was only sorry I wasn't some kind of swami who could have known that Bella would grow so close to my brother and the whole family – had I known that, I might have handled things differently.

But I did what I did. And now I was in a mess with no obvious way to win.

It didn't help there were rats in WitSec, which hampered my options. They knew she was alive now, and the trial date was set and coming fast. Last week, James came sniffing around my office, asking where I was on the day of the deposition.

My alibi was airtight, of course, and I'm a better liar than Edward, but that didn't fill me with confidence. How far would the Volturi go to stop Bella from testifying? If they thought there was a remote chance that I knew her whereabouts, was I in danger? Was my family?

What I needed was a plan. And as much as I didn't want to, I needed to involve Edward. He was the one who stayed six moves ahead of his opponent. And he had a lot to lose.

**Wednesday, June 24, 2008**

Bella and Rosalie were visiting with Alice and baby Joshua. My girls were upstairs, asleep in their beds. Edward's uppity Belgian beer was stocked in the cooler, a major concession given that my whole house was all-American.

I was ready for our heart-to-heart.

The soft knock at the door came right at 9:30. I saw him in the camera and unlocked the door.

Edward stepped into the house and removed his shoes. I relaxed a bit. Things had been tense between us lately, but Edward was obeying Rosalie's house rules by taking off his shoes. Whatever tension was between us could be mended.

We went into the living room. Before I could say anything, Edward barked out a laugh.

"There's a cooler in the living room."

The cooler was a stroke of genius, even if Edward wouldn't admit it. "This way we don't have to keep getting up."

"Heaven forbid we go to the effort of standing up and walking to the kitchen."

"We can put yours in the fridge if it will help you keep your trim figure, but mine are staying in the cooler."

Still smirking, Edward sat down on my favorite black leather wing chair.

I picked one of his beers out of the cooler and tossed it over to him. He caught it and raised an eyebrow at the label.

"Yeah. I caved and bought some foreign shit for you. You better drink it. And you better believe that whatever you don't drink is going home with you."

"Bottle opener?"

Of course he needed the one thing I'd left in the kitchen. No one needed a bottle opener for American beer. I stalked off to the kitchen to fetch one.

When I returned, Edward had his stocking feet up on the coffee table. I'd never seen him so relaxed. He looked… different. His eyes were lighter. There weren't any wrinkles in his forehead. His mouth twitched like he might smile. It was eerie.

"Catch," I said, tossing the bottle opener in his direction.

He caught it without flinching. He didn't even make a crack about how I always had to throw everything. The suspicious side of my nature wondered if perhaps the Volturi had gotten to him. There were drugs that could make people unnaturally happy…

"Why am I here?"

Right. It was time to get down to business. This wasn't a social occasion, even though I had disguised it as one.

"Did Bella tell you the trial date has been set?"

"She didn't." His jaw tightened, and the wrinkles went back to his forehead. I relaxed a little. He was my brother, after all.

"It has. February 23rd."

"That's soon."

"I know. We need to talk about expectations."

"Whose expectations?"

"Mine. Yours."

"Very well."

"You and I, we haven't exactly seen eye to eye lately." That was putting it mildly, but I wasn't willing to put it all out there yet. I fiddled with the edge of the wrapper on my beer, peeling it back a little. Back in college, peeling off the wrapper in one piece meant you were going to get lucky that night. I could use some luck.

"I love her."

I looked up from my beer bottle to see Edward looking straight at me. Even expecting it, it still freaked me out. I took a drink of beer to buy myself a few seconds to think. This had to be handled with care. Rosalie wasn't home, but I set my beer on a coaster anyway. I leaned forward in my seat and folded my hands in front of me.

"Edward. What do you expect to happen after the trial?"

"I don't want to be away from her."

"You do understand she's in WitSec? That she won't be safe after the trial?"

His eyes flashed at me in the dim light. "I'm not an idiot."

"Then you're going to enjoy what you have with her now, and go your separate ways after the trial is done?"

Silence.

Perhaps whiskey would have been a better choice. I kind of thought we'd be a few beers in before we got down to business.

"You must know you can't keep her safe. The Volturi are everywhere."

"You think I don't know that? You think I haven't looked into my own connections? That I'm not monitoring the people around us?"

Whoa. WHOA. Back up the truck. "What do you mean, monitoring people around you?" My voice was nice and even, like when I talked to a nervous witness. Surely, Edward wouldn't keep information related to Bella's safety from me. I was the professional. I was the one supposed to keep her safe.

The look on my face must have been murderous, because Edward slid back in his chair, and started talking fast.

"I took the time to do some research on the people she might encounter in my circle. It was worse than I would have thought."

I wasn't sure what pissed me off more—that Edward didn't bother to tell me what he found out, or that I hadn't thought to do the same kind of research. Either he was ignoring my fury, or he was oblivious, because he kept right on talking.

"There are more than fifty contacts in my circle who have direct or indirect ties to the Volturi."

I choked on my beer. "What the hell do you mean, you know fifty people connected to the Volturi? You didn't think that was important information to share?"

He had the decency to look a little guilty. "I knew you'd blow a gasket. And realistically, you probably could have done the same research yourself if you'd thought it was important."

"When were you going to tell me about this?"

"When it was relevant."

I winced, then, because I knew he hadn't told me the worst of it. Even as a kid he was like this. It made him good at chess but a lousy team player. "Is there anything else I might think is relevant?"

"I'm in the process of pledging to join the Occhi."

"What the hell is the Oak-y?" Surely the Volturi didn't have any connections to a tree-hugging group.

"A secret society that the Volturi use to keep tabs on people, and I'm their newest pledge," he answered calmly. He set his empty beer bottle on the coffee table and plucked another one from the cooler. Before he sat down, he tossed me a second beer.

I twisted it open and downed half of it immediately. I had to, or I was going to lose my temper. This was supposed to be a night where I revealed information to Edward, and it was turning out wrong. I downed the rest of the bottle and slammed it on the coffee table.

"I hope you realize I am exercising superhuman restraint by not bashing your head in."

"I'm at war with the Volturi. I'm exercising the fundamental principle of keeping my enemies close."

"You're one man. Versus a mob. You don't stand a chance of doing anything but getting both you and Bella killed."

"I disagree."

"You would," I muttered. "Does Bella know about this Oaky thing you're doing?"

"Of course not," he hissed.

"Don't you think she ought to know?"

Edward glared at me.

I glared right back. Because I was right. Wasn't I?

Enunciating each word carefully, he broke our glaring contest. "Telling Bella will worry her. She already has nightmares. She's already afraid. There's nothing she can do about the Volturi around us. And she can't stop me from interacting with the Occhi. That's already done. Telling her will put her on edge, and that's a possibility we can ill afford when her safety relies upon us successfully deceiving people."

He had a point. In an ideal world, Bella ought to know, but her lying was for shit, so maybe telling her would only put them in more danger. But Edward needed to be disabused of the notion that he was running the show, and that needed to happen _pronto_.

"All right. Here's how it's going to be. No more of this solo hero act. You need to be in constant contact with me about all of this. The Volturi connections. The Occhi. Everything. We're a team, you and I, and I expect your full cooperation."

"Fine. But I want Bella kept out of it as much as possible."

"Fair enough." And here is where I hesitated. "I'm a little… concerned… about how close Bella has become to our family."

"So am I."

"But you let it happen."

"I don't see how I could have stopped it. Have you met our sister Alice?"

"I would put you up against Alice any day of the week."

Edward grinned. "And you would lose, because Alice is small but mighty."

"What the fuck are we going to do to fix this?"

"Bella's hiding in plain sight. Things are okay."

"You're pledging some weird-ass mob group. Things are not okay." _Not okay_ was an understatement, but Edward didn't respond well to frank statements of fact and I was trying to speak his language.

"I have things under control." He had the nerve to give me a confident smile.

I glared at him. "This isn't a game. These are people we love we're talking about."

"If I believed for one moment that her presence was endangering our family, I would take her away somewhere else."

"I'll hold you to that." And I would hold him to it, willing or unwilling.


	20. August 1 to September 4, 2008

A/N: Thank you to Withthevampsofcourse and Oxymoronic8 for betaing—they're both made of awesome.

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who reviewed the previous chapter, even though I'd been gone for months and months. It was such a warm and fuzzy feeling to see so many familiar names still reading (and some new names, too!).

**Chapter 20**

**Monday, October 29, 2007**

This was not a normal job.

Over the past six months, I'd been apprenticed with Heidi. Aro called it learning how to ask questions. I called it sneaking information out of people.

We wore designer clothes paid for by Volterra, Inc. We ate meals so expensive that they cost more than I spent at the grocery store in an entire month. It was uncomfortable in the extreme, at first. Volterra had all this money, and they were having Heidi and I spend it on clothes and food? Eventually, I became inured to the dollar signs. No matter how much something cost, Heidi would wave her shiny black credit card and it was ours.

What did we have to do in return for this largesse? We talked to people; a lot of people. Most of the people we talked to were guests of Volterra, flown in from all over the world to visit. Some of the people were not guests of Volterra, and they didn't know they would be talking to us until we approached them. Those conversations made me most uncomfortable, but Heidi never batted an eye.

We weren't doing anything illicit or illegal. Aro gave us goals, a list of bullet points relating to interesting information our targets would have, and then we tried to find out the information. It seemed impossible in the beginning, but Heidi was magic. I became convinced that if someone knew something, they would spill it. All we did was talk to people, entertain them—occasionally we would go on outings with them to places like the symphony—and people would tell us things. Afterwards, I would write up a report for Aro and turn it in the next morning.

Did people know that we were talking to them with the purpose of gaining information? I was never sure. I asked Heidi, and she said of course they did. I asked Aro, and he told me I was smart enough to figure it out myself.

I wasn't sure why I was being apprenticed to Heidi. I could never be as attractive as she was, and I couldn't imagine that I would ever be as flirtatious, either. Old or young, handsome or ugly, male or female—Heidi charmed them all. I was plain. Where Heidi's hair was lustrous mahogany, mine was brown. Her eyes were like sweet iced tea on a summer's day. Mine were brown. Her skin was golden and glowy, where mine was white and boring. There were no similarities I could detect.

Today, it was my turn to take the lead. My heart was in my throat. Heidi was around for backup if I goofed, but I was supposed to do this on my own. I waited for the target to come into range, and then I dropped my briefcase.

The papers scattered everywhere, and I pretended they were important. As expected, the target helped me pick up the papers. From there, we struck up a conversation.

Maybe I could do this after all.

**Monday, August 1, 2008**

I thought the dress shop would be snooty. Granted, Esme wanted to have a dress _made_ for me, so obviously it wouldn't be snooty enough for her. And neither Alice nor Rosalie had had dresses off-the-rack, so Esme was determined I wouldn't, either.

I refused to visit with a designer to be fitted for something custom. It was my first time saying no to Esme, and I was a little surprised I succeeded. Without missing a beat, she informed me I was the bride, and we would do it my way. Alice pointed out privately that trying on dresses was the first step to deciding on something custom, so I shouldn't consider it a victory yet.

For her younger son's wedding, Esme had already put down deposits for three florists, and she had reserved an entire swanky hotel downtown for the night of June 20, 2009. We were to be married on the top floor with a view of the entire city surrounding us.

I had mixed feelings about the wedding. In all the mess of wedding planning and shopping and putting down deposits, it was easy to believe this was real life. I no longer felt like I was living a lie. I was secure in Edward's love. We spent our nights discovering secrets about each other. His family encircled me like a security blanket. It was easy to forget all this was fake.

"Psst," Alice whispered in my ear.

I jumped, having forgotten I had an audience. I was letting my love for Edward make me careless. "What?" I whispered back. "And why are we whispering?"

"Because you looked too serious for me to use a normal voice."

"Sorry. I have a lot on my mind."

"Like what?"

"Like thinking about how real this wedding is becoming." That wasn't a lie. For a fictional event, the wedding was taking on a life of its own.

"Are you excited to try on dresses?" Alice was practically vibrating with excitement.

I eyed baby Joshua, wrapped tightly against her in a sling. I had no idea how he could possibly sleep when Alice was so effervescent, but he did. He even gave a little snore, as though to prove his contentment.

"Well? Are you?" Alice demanded when I didn't answer quickly enough.

I gave her a guarded smile. "I'm excited about the idea of having forever with Edward." _Or at least I would be, if it were possible._

We stepped into the shop, and I was taken aback. I expected the shop to be posh, but instead it was homey. The only indication this was a store worthy of patronage by Alice and Esme was a sign just inside the door in handwritten calligraphy, indicating that prospective brides were seen by appointment only.

The front room was empty. Alice walked in directly and rang a small hand bell that sat upon a side table. The bell let out soft, tinkling notes that filled the room.

A couple moments later, a young woman opened a set of French doors and walked in.

She smiled widely at us. "Hello. You must be Alice. What a beautiful baby you have."

Alice beamed at her. "He is, isn't he?"

She turned her smile to me. "And you must be Bella, our bride."

Her words should have struck fear and paranoia into my heart, but her smile was genuine and more than a little contagious.

"Your mother-in-law-to-be is already here, enjoying a cappuccino in the back. May I bring either of you anything?"

"Water for me," Alice said.

"I'm fine."

"This way, ladies."

We went back through the French doors and into a room filled with dresses. Esme was seated on a couch in the middle of the room, nibbling biscotti.

We each hugged her in turn, and Esme cooed a bit over Joshua. I wasn't sure what the procedure was at a dress store like this, so I hovered a bit until it was clear I was supposed to sit down.

The young woman who greeted us introduced herself as Margaret. She sat with us and initiated a discussion about my wedding vision. Since I had no vision, Esme and Alice did most of the talking. After ten or fifteen minutes of chatting, Margaret disappeared. When she returned, she informed us someone was pulling appropriate dresses for me so that I could start trying things on in a room.

Margaret led me into a fitting room large enough to house a loveseat, two armchairs, side tables, a three-way mirror, and plenty of room to hang prospective dresses. There was already a white dress waiting for me.

"Did you bring any special shoes you would like to wear?"

"Shoes?" Why would I bring shoes? I was here to try on dresses.

Sensing my confusion, Margaret hastily added, "Some ladies have the shoes they want to wear picked out before they try on dresses. Some just want to wear heels when they try on the dress. If you'll tell me your shoe size, I can bring you some white heels to wear."

"Size seven."

"And are you wearing a strapless bra?"

I blushed and shook my head. I apparently had no idea what was involved in trying on dresses.

"I can pull one for you from our lingerie store."

I told her my size, and she returned with both shoes and a bra.

We started with the dress on the hanger. It was a size 6, and although it didn't fit perfectly, it fit well enough for me to have an idea what it would be like in my size. I managed to maintain my calm while Margaret helped me into the dress and zipped it for me.

Esme and Alice were escorted in, and they oohed and ahhed at all the appropriate moments as I twirled for them.

Everything went well until I stepped up onto the platform to view myself in the three-way mirror. I had no veil, but it didn't matter. I looked like a bride. The white, A-line, strapless dress in silk satin with beaded embroidery made me look like I was stepping out of the pages of a bridal magazine.

The corners of my eyes prickled. I was not a bride. I was never going to be a bride. I could dream and dream of a future with Edward, but it would never happen. Ever. I took a deep breath and tried to hold the tears at bay. _I will not cry_.

Esme's eyes were keen, and she was at my side immediately. "Bella, sweetheart, whatever is the matter?"

I sniffled. I could have stopped the tears if not for Esme's kindness and concern. The waterworks opened, and tears streamed down my cheeks. There was nothing I could say, and the tears wouldn't stop. I cried harder.

Margaret handed me a box of tissues and then promptly disappeared back through the French doors. Esme led me back over to the couch and pulled me down next to her. She stroked my hair with her hand, and I let myself lean into the love and protection I didn't deserve. She didn't ask me again what was wrong, and for that I was grateful.

Alice patted my head and then announced she needed to go feed Joshua.

Esme and I were alone in the room of the bridal store, surrounded by white dresses, sitting on a lavender chenille divan. The tears went on for several embarrassing minutes before I could pull things together enough to dry my eyes and blow my nose.

"I know it must be hard to try on wedding dresses without your mother."

That thought had never occurred to me, and it brought with it a fresh round of tears. If Mom were alive, if she could have seen me now, what would she have said? She'd be upset that I got involved with the Volturi. She'd be worried. She'd freak out that I fell in love with someone rich, because she was suspicious of people with money. Her philosophy: _There are only so many ways you end up with money, and none of them are pretty_. But maybe, maybe she'd see how much I loved Edward and she'd be happy for me. I missed her so much.

"I can never take your mother's place, Bella, but I will love you like my own. I hope you know that. If you ever need a friendly ear or even just a shoulder to cry on, I'm here for you." Esme's hands continued their gentle stroking of my hair, and I found myself relaxing minutely.

I took in a great shuddering breath. And then another. "Thank you," I said at last.

"Do you want to go home? If this isn't enjoyable…"

"I'll be okay." And I would be okay, if I could get out of reality and back into the pretend land where this wedding was real.

With an enviable sixth sense, Margaret materialized with a cup of chamomile tea and a scone. She also brought cucumber slices, which seemed like an odd choice, but their clean, crisp crunch was somehow comforting. As I ate the first one, Esme looked like she wanted to say something, but then she just patted me on the shoulder and smiled.

Alice came back with an alert baby in her arms. His eyes wandered around the room, and his tiny feet kicked while she held him in the crook of her arm.

"What did I miss?" Alice asked.

"Nothing. I'm about to go for round two." I forced a smile.

I pulled the bacon-wrapped asparagus out of the oven and started to plate it. The crudités were on the counter. The lasagna went into the oven. I poured the red wine into a decanter and started chopping things for the salad. The dough for the Parker House rolls had doubled in size and was ready to be punched down and shaped. Everything in the kitchen was moving along smoothly, but I was still unsettled.

I heard Edward come in, but I didn't turn around. It was much easier to shape my rolls into little clovers than it was to tell him about my day. I could hear his footsteps in the house as he approached the kitchen. The footsteps stopped at the doorway.

"How was your day?" he asked, his voice low.

I looked up from my rolls then and made brief eye contact. "It was fine."

"Oh?" His eyes took in the appetizers, the wine, and the mess of dishes that hadn't made it to the dishwasher yet. "You've outdone yourself for dinner."

"Don't be silly."

"Bella, if that's lasagna in the oven, there's enough food here to feed a party of eight."

"The leftovers will be good tomorrow."

"What happened today?"

I looked at him, and I couldn't look away, though my hands kept shaping rolls. There was no point in hiding anything from him. He knew me too well. That realization was both comforting and terrifying.

"The dress shopping was rough," I said. His obvious love for me was making it hard for me to be strong.

Edward hesitated. "What happened?"

"It's just," I paused, searching for words, "I looked like a bride."

"This won't last forever. When this is all over…" Edward's voice trailed off as he noticed my expression.

"I can't talk about it." We'd had this conversation before. Or, rather, I'd avoided this conversation before.

He walked the rest of the way into the kitchen until he stood behind me. He rested his hands on my hips, and it took all my concentration to keep working on the rolls.

"I don't want to be apart from you," he murmured in my ear.

I finished the last little clover, covered the rolls and pushed them aside. They needed to rise for a bit. I didn't turn around. Instead I let myself feel Edward's proximity.

I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to agree, to say I didn't want to be apart from him, either. The words stuck in my throat. They were true words, but saying them would give them power over me. I already had more than I ever hoped for or expected. What right did I have to ask for more?

Instead of answering him, I turned around and pressed my body against his. For a moment I worried he would push me away and demand we talk, but maybe he knew I couldn't handle it.

**Wednesday & Thursday, September 3 – 4, 2008**

"Should I get us another bottle?"

I giggled. We definitely didn't _need_ another bottle of Cristal, but there was something so decadent about lounging by the pool on a sunny day, drinking chilled champagne.

Rose didn't wait for me to answer. Instead, she swung her long legs over the side of her chaise and unfolded her tall frame until she towered over me.

I shaded my eyes against the bright sun to look up at her.

"I can still stand," she said, "so we need more."

Part of me felt guilty we were wasting an entire afternoon drinking alcohol that cost more than a month's worth of groceries. But the other part of me was reveling in the decadence. Rosalie was good company; she'd lived more before she met Emmett than most people did in their whole lives. We'd laughed most of the afternoon away, and I was happy. She was happy, too. It wasn't often she took time out from being a mom.

I waited a couple of minutes for Rosalie, and then realized I had to pee. Best to get it over with before we got into that next bottle, right? Wrapping a beach towel snugly around my waist, I sauntered back to the house. I entered the house through the kitchen and heard voices in the front room.

My heart leapt to my throat and my alcohol buzz evaporated. There was a man talking to Rose. What was someone who wasn't Edward or Emmett doing in the house? I crept through the kitchen and peered around the corner, looking into the entryway. The man was Jason Jenks. He was _here_, chatting up Rose in her white bikini like it was the most normal thing in the world.

The pounding of my heart vibrated through my ears, and I couldn't hear anything they were saying. A million thoughts dashed through my head, but I couldn't focus on any of them. All I could feel was panic. Jason Jenks remembered me from somewhere, and now he was in Edward's house, making conversation with Rose. Was it my imagination, or were his eyes darting around the foyer, taking everything in?

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably five minutes, they stopped talking and Rose walked him to the door. Even when the door closed behind him, my heart did not calm down.

Rose saw me then and walked over to me. "Bella, are you okay? You look green."

I forced myself to swallow the lump in my throat. I had to act normally.

"What was that man doing here?" My voice was a little shaky, and it didn't sound like mine.

"Dropping something off for Edward, why?"

"Did you buzz him in?"

She looked at me funny. "Of course I did. I happened to be here when he came on the intercom, saying he had something for Edward."

"He could have been anybody!"

"You are one paranoid drunk. Everything is fine." Rose rolled her eyes. "He was at Edward's birthday party, remember?"

I bit my tongue. There was nothing I could say to Rose that would make any sense to her. From her perspective, I was being a psycho.

"What did he drop off for Edward?"

"Some art. It's over there."

It was in the corner of the foyer, a square, wooden box that was only a few inches deep. It was the right sort of container for a painting, but what if it wasn't a painting? What if it was a bomb or a poisonous gas or some kind of spying equipment?

Rose went back out to the pool with our new bottle of Cristal, while I checked the security cameras to make sure Jason Jenks was gone. When I felt sure of his absence, I ducked into to the bathroom like I had originally intended, splashed cool water on my face, and went back out to look at the package Jason had delivered.

If I opened it and it was nothing, no big deal. If I opened it and it was something dangerous, what then?

I called Edward, even though I hated myself for possibly endangering him. I didn't know what else to do. He told me not to touch it and said he'd be home in ten minutes.

It wasn't the longest ten minutes of my life, but each second stretched out like an eternity. All of my previous experiences with danger had only been about me, and sometimes Emmett, but this time Rose was outside and Edward was coming home. Either of them could be hurt, and it would all be because of me. I couldn't go back out to the pool and keep drinking Cristal like nothing had happened. If there were a bomb in the box, and it made some kind of beep or something, wouldn't it be better to be nearby?

Or maybe it would be better to be out of the house.

I hated not knowing. I hated the guilt that compromised my ability to think straight. Because if I'd been thinking, I would have called Emmett. Rose was here visiting, so it would be perfectly normal for Emmett to make a stop at the house.

I flipped open my phone and dialed Emmett's cell phone.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Hi Bella." His voice would have sounded normal to most people, but I could hear the undercurrent of tension.

"Are you busy?" I was suddenly hesitant to reveal everything. What if he was angry with me for endangering his wife… and his brother and his children and his whole family? _I am a horrible person. _

"I'm never too busy to talk to you. What's up?"

"Can you come over? There's a suspicious package in the foyer. Edward is on his way, but I'd feel better if you were here. Rosalie is here, too."

Silence.

"Are you still there?"

"Rosalie's at the house?" At this point, anyone would have heard the tension in his voice.

"She is."

"Is everything okay?"

"I think so. But I'm a little paranoid-"

He cut me off. "I'll be right there."

Edward arrived first, his tires squealing in the driveway. The door into the house from the garage banged against the wall, and his feet pounded the floor as he dashed into the foyer. His hair was pointing in all directions, as if he had run his fingers through it repeatedly on the way home.

"You're safe," Edward said, drawing me into a rough embrace.

"Well, I didn't touch it." I couldn't keep the panic out of my voice. I was alive, but I wasn't safe. And now that Edward was here, he wasn't safe either. His arms were strong and comforting, but part of me was freaking out that we were both standing next to a possible bomb.

"I was so afraid it was a bomb that would go off before I reached you."

His calm tone should have relaxed me, but instead it had the opposite effect. "Do you know anything about bombs?"

"I know I want you out of the house while I move it outside."

"But…"

He covered my mouth with his and squeezed my shoulders. It felt a little desperate, and fear overwhelmed me that this might be the last time we ever kissed. I kissed him back as hard as I could. Too soon, he released me.

"You said Rose is by the pool?"

"Yes."

"If this is a bomb, the pool is the best place to put it. Why don't you get Rose, and you two can wait in the house?"

"Um, won't she be suspicious? And what if it's really art? Were you expecting art?"

"If it's art, then it will be ruined. Yes, I bought a painting, but it wasn't supposed to be delivered. I can buy another painting. I can't buy another you."

A pounding on the door made both of us jump.

"Go in the kitchen, Bella. I'll answer the door."

"It's probably Emmett. I called him after I called you."

Edward's eyebrows drew together for a split-second, and I had a moment of self-doubt.

"Should I not have called him? I thought maybe he knew more about bombs."

The pounding on the door started again.

"Into the kitchen, Bella."

I went into the kitchen, all the while sure it was Emmett. I mean, it had to be, otherwise he would have needed to be buzzed in. And criminals don't bang on doors. They break windows. Or shoot guns. I shuddered.

Voices in the foyer confirmed my suspicions. Emmett was here. Edward didn't sound thrilled to see him, either.

"Bella?" Rose cracked opened the door that led out to the back, and she stepped inside when she saw me. "Why are you still at the house? For a minute I thought you died or something."

I winced at her choice of words. "Well," I started, not sure what to tell her. Both of us heard the voices in the foyer.

"We have company?"

"Not exactly." There was no way to get around telling her Edward and Emmett were here at this point. I ought to have hustled her back to the pool before she could suspect something, but the alcohol was making it hard to concentrate. If we were all going to die, I didn't want my last action on earth to be lying to my friend.

"Is that Emmett?" Rose looked perplexed.

"Yes, and Edward's here, too."

Before I could finish, Rose was out of the kitchen and into the foyer to investigate with the hustle of someone who had no fear. I had a flicker of envy as I followed her. The scene that met us would have been comical if I hadn't been afraid for all our lives. Rose burst out laughing.

"What the hell are you guys doing down there?" she asked through guffaws.

The carton in question was lying flat on the floor. Edward was on the marble with his ear against the flat side, apparently listening for something. Emmett was kneeling down, aiming some kind of hand-held device at the carton, moving his arm back and forth over it.

It was a tribute to their dedication that they finished what they were doing before addressing Rose.

Emmett gave Rose a broad smile. "I guess we did look ridiculous, didn't we?"

"That's an understatement. What's all the fuss over that carton?"

"Edward made a couple of enemies, and we're being extra careful." Emmett sounded nonchalant, but the usual twinkle was missing from his eyes.

I could tell he was lying. Surely Rose could tell, too, but instead of grilling him, she said. "Is that all?" and then, toward Edward, she added, "Sometimes a picture is just a picture, dimwit."

No one said anything for several seconds, and then Rose turned to me. "I think we'll have to finish up our Cristal party another time, Bella. My buzz is ruined."

"You mean you don't want to hang out while there might be a bomb?" It was my feeble attempt at a joke.

"I should get back anyway, and my big lug of a husband can drive me home when this thing turns out to be a painting, just like Jason said it was." Rose tapped her foot, as though waiting for them to open it in front of her.

Edward and Emmett exchanged a long look, and then Emmett shrugged. Emmett took out a utility knife and sliced the ties. The box fell open, revealing a beautiful painting of a beach. All four of us stared at the picture. Without missing a beat, Emmett slid his fingers around the back of the painting. I wasn't sure what he was looking for, but he was purposeful in his actions.

"You're right, sweetheart," Emmett said. "It's clean."

Rose grabbed her bag, and she and Emmett departed, leaving Edward and me standing together in the foyer.

"You should get back to work," I told Edward, because I wanted to be alone.

"It's almost three." He hesitated, then added, "I don't want to be apart from you."

He pulled me to him, and I let myself be folded into his arms. His chin rested on my head, and he held me securely, but I didn't feel the same sense of safety that I had before. All of my feelings were a little bit tainted by a fear that his touch couldn't relieve.

"I was so afraid I would lose you," he murmured into my hair.

Edward led me up the stairs to the bedroom we shared, and we made love—him with fierce affection, and me with an abandon borne of desperation.

I loved him with all my heart.

And that was why I knew I needed to leave.

Edward wrapped his arms around me and drifted off to sleep. As he slept, his arm draped protectively over me. I should have been sleepy, but instead my brain buzzed with activity as I made my plan.

Edward would not want me to leave. That was a given. If I gave him one clue of my plan, he would stop it. That much I knew. Alice, Rose, and Esme all had to be in the dark as well. They would never understand, and I couldn't imagine putting them in danger by telling them the truth. And Emmett, well, he was going to take my flight personally, but there was nothing I could do about it.

So…

I didn't have a whole lot of options. I could leave and hide out until the trial, or I could stay and put an entire family that I had grown to love and think of as my own in danger.

I chose the first option.

Edward's arm tightened around me like a vise, and guilt surged through me to the point where I felt physically ill. He was going to be upset, but I hoped he would understand why I couldn't confide in him. He wanted to protect me, and I loved that about him, but no one could win against the Volturi. Eventually, something bad would happen. The only miracle was that nothing bad had happened yet. Since the incident with the painting, he had taken to holding me all night. Last night, I'd tried to extricate myself to go to the bathroom at five in the morning. It was so difficult, I ended up waiting until the alarm went off at six.

I swiveled my head to look at his face, so relaxed in the repose of sleep. It was hard to believe how rocky our beginning had been together. My thumb caressed the ring on my third finger, the ring he gave me that first night. It was an obscenely expensive ring, and I had been embarrassed to wear it at first. I could still remember him rattling off the ring's specs in that matter-of-fact tone, like it was no big deal to give someone a ring worth more than the sum of their possessions. At the time I couldn't understand why a fake ring wouldn't have been sufficient, but now I did. He knew we would need to act like the ring and the commitment were real.

But the commitment wasn't real, and I was glad at that moment. I had some wonderful memories, and if Edward had truly proposed to me, I wasn't sure I would have had the strength to leave.

I was at the breakfast table in my robe when Edward came downstairs into the kitchen. He had a charcoal suit on. His top shirt button was unbuttoned, and a tie hung around his neck. His hair was still damp from the shower. My eyes devoured him. Would I ever see him again?

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll never make it to work on time."

I forced a smile. "We can't have that, can we?"

Edward chuckled, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "At least grant me a kiss."

"With pleasure." I reached up and pulled his head to mine. His lips were warm and yielding, and felt like home.

It was a relief when Edward broke the kiss, because I could not have done it knowing it was our last.

When I saw the gate close behind his car, I started to pack. I was impetuous on occasion, but even I would never leave Edward's house with only the clothes on my back. Maybe once upon a time Marie might have fled in a panic without a plan of any kind, but I was more Bella than Marie these days, and I'd learned a few things Marie never knew. From Esme, I'd learned that there was a civilized way to do most anything, so I would definitely be packing a full suitcase of clothes. Alice didn't believe in going hungry, and so I would be taking food with me. Rosalie was smart, and I vowed to replace my motto of _What Would Edward's Fiancée Do?_ with_ What Would Rosalie Do?_ while I was on the road. And Edward, well, I couldn't bear to think of him without crying, so I would save that reflection for later.

Bella Lawson had both a driver's license and a passport, but neither of those would do me any good. Whether the painting delivery was innocent or not, I was convinced the Volturi knew who I was. And for that reason, I needed to disappear for a while. I needed money to buy a fake ID. I wasn't sure how to buy one or from where, but that was a worry for another time.

I couldn't use the ATM to pull out cash, and I didn't carry cash in my wallet, but I did know the combination to Edward's safe. He had me store my passport there, and he gave me the combination in case I ever needed to access it.

I wouldn't be leaving the country, so I didn't need the it, but I did remember the stacks and stacks of cash in the safe.

My fingers trembled as I typed in the code.

It felt like I was stealing from Edward, and I hated that. But part of my brain kept rationalizing that Edward would want me to take the cash. He wouldn't want me living hand-to-mouth on the street as I waited for the trial. He would want me to be as safe as possible, wouldn't he? _Or maybe he'll be so mad when he discovers I'm gone that he'll be angry_.

I shook the thought away as I had my first WWRD moment. Rosalie would take the cash in a heartbeat. She wouldn't think twice, and she wouldn't feel guilty.

How much did I need? The money was bundled in stacks of twenties in what appeared to be thousand dollar increments. This was September; the trial was in February in North Carolina. I would need money for a plane ticket, for gas, for hotels, for fake IDs…

Behind the money, there was an envelope. I shouldn't have opened it, but in my defense, I was still operating in the Rosalie frame of mind. Inside were four U.S. passports. Two were for Edward, two were for me. Tucked inside each passport was a driver's license for the state of Nevada.

I almost lost my nerve. Edward had fake passports for both of us in the safe. I could believe that he might have had one made for me under another name to make it easier for me to flee, but he had them made for him, too. That could only mean that he had planned to run with me.

I let myself entertain the notion of us staying together for a moment. It brought a smile to my face until I imagined him being shot trying to protect me.

I pocketed the two passports with my picture and slipped Edward's back into the package. I replaced the envelope in the back of the safe with a little bit of regret, and went back to calculating how much money I would need. Would $5,000 be enough? Surely it would be.

A flash of my old life assaulted me: I once had asked Heidi if $5,000 was enough, and she told me to take $20,000. When I asked her why, she said twice as much as you think you need is never enough.

Without thinking, my hands automatically closed over more bundles of money.

I hadn't thought of Heidi in months. I'd buried memories of her and all the rest of the Volturi so deep that they only came to the surface in my nightmares. I wasn't Bella Lawson. Nobody was. She was a fictional invention created by Edward and Emmett and me. While Bella Lawson spent her time shopping for wedding dresses, planning charity galas, and drinking Cristal by the pool; Marie Swan had to testify against the Volturi, a group that had infiltrated every corner of society and ruthlessly obliterated anyone who opposed them.

Given a choice, I would choose to be Bella any day, but I never really had a choice, did I?

I went downstairs and grabbed my purse from the kitchen table. I jogged back up the shallow steps and into Edward's den where the safe still stood open. From the purse I extracted Bella's passport, and from the wallet, I withdrew Bella's driver's license.

I made myself put them in the envelope with Edward's IDs.

I wasn't Bella anymore.

I never was.

Two hours later, I was waiting for Jake to arrive for work. He was the only person I knew who would understand. All I needed from him was an anonymous ride to a bus station, but he did me one better and offered to set me up with a spare set of wheels he had sitting in his garage.

That was way more than I could have hoped for, since it wouldn't be immediately traceable to Edward. Jacob was even able to take me to the car immediately. That left me back in the house, shoveling food into a cooler and nervously watching the clock. Edward wasn't supposed to be home for three hours at least, but I wanted a significant head start on him. The whole plan was for naught if he walked in the door right now.

Suitcase packed with clothes for any weather? Check. Cash stashed? Check. Cooler packed? With the last minute addition of a bag of mint Milano cookies, that was ready, too.

Marie Swan was ready to make tracks.

I set my cell phone on the kitchen table. It would stay at the house. People who wanted to disappear didn't use cell phones. There was probably some tracking chip in mine or some other way to compromise my location. The cell phone looked lonely on the table, and I realized that as much as it would be best for me to simply disappear like Bella Lawson never existed, I couldn't do it. I had to tell Edward something.

But what if someone found the note?

The possibility of discovery was not deterrent enough. I would write the note with the idea that someone might find it. There was a pen in my purse, and I uncapped it slowly. I set the pen on the paper, and it sat there for several seconds while I considered what I wanted to say.

_Dear Edward,_

_I've decided to leave. I know you'll be hurt, but please know this is for the best. Don't try to find me, because it won't be possible._

_Don't take it personally that things didn't work out. I was the problem, not you. You'll always have a place in my heart._

_Bella_

It didn't capture everything I wanted to say; namely, it didn't say how much I loved him, but at least he knew I left of my own volition and I wasn't kidnapped or something. If my cover was intact, this had to look like a break-up note to anyone who saw it.

I fought tears as I realized the last thing I had to do. I slid Edward's ring off my finger and set it on the table next to my note. I couldn't wear something so flashy on the road, and it wouldn't be right to keep it, anyway. I was sure the ring was worth more than the $20,000 in cash I had stashed in my suitcase. Better to leave the ring here, rather than have a continual reminder of what never quite happened.

I heard feet on the stairs and saw Jacob standing on the porch.

He opened the door a crack. "I'm ready whenever you are, Bells."

My smile was watery. "I'm ready."


	21. September 4 to December 13, 2008

**A/N: **Thank you to revrag and withthevampsofcourse for holding my hand.

* * *

**Chapter 21**

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**Tuesday, December 11, 2007**

"It's the holiday season. Where is your Christmas cheer?"

"What makes you so sure I celebrate Christmas?" I snapped. "How do you know I haven't been celebrating Hanukkah?"

Aro frowned. "Be professional, Marie."

Professional. Ha. As if I could be professional when I was upset. "The man I talked to last week is missing. Aren't you the least bit concerned something might have happened to him?"

"What does it matter if something did?" Aro was the picture of studied indifference. "Isn't he the one who failed to provide the information we sought?"

"You. You sought it. I ate dinner with him. Wayne Persons is a nice man."

"My dear Marie, sometimes people disappear. There's nothing we can do about it. There's no way to change the past. You have to focus on the important things in life, especially over the holidays."

"Like what?" My arms crossed over my chest and I glared at Aro. He set my teeth on edge, and it was getting worse and worse the longer I worked here. I'd started a calendar at home to X off the days until I could quit without being stuck repaying the scholarship.

"Family. Loyalty to your family is the most important thing, Marie. Never forget that." Aro cast a significant look through the office door to the common area where his brother, Marcus, was standing and waiting for Aro's attention.

I gave Aro a tight smile, trying not to show how his comment hurt me. Of course Aro could be grateful for his family. He saw his brothers all the time. I didn't want to confide about my lack of family, so instead I said, "Wayne Persons had a family."

Aro flicked his hand at me. Experience had taught me that meant I was dismissed. Staring into his cold face, my intuition flickered. _Sometimes people disappear_. I went back to my desk, my memory on repeat, replaying Aro's words in an endless loop.

When I went home that night, I did something I almost never did. I turned on my computer. On a pad of paper, I made a list of all the people I'd spoken to unsuccessfully for information in the last couple of months. There were eight names on my list. I opened a browser window and started to search.

I had no luck with Linda Smith, because there were too many hits, but I found an obituary for Amadeus Camden. He died after a rare drug reaction last month, shortly after I spoke to him.

The heater vent was blowing my hair, but even that couldn't stop my shiver.

I didn't find all of them, but Calvin Derrion died in a car accident, and Susannah Pelter died of cardiac arrest. Both deaths happened within weeks of the time I met them.

The chill settled into my bones. How many people had _disappeared_?

* * *

**Thursday, September 4, 2008**

Since Bella came into my life, there were certain things to which I had become accustomed. One of them was the aroma of dinner in the kitchen when I came home, another was hearing Bella hum as she cooked.

The house was silent.

"Bella?" I called out into the dark house. Instead of walking straight to the kitchen, as I was wont to do, I walked instead into the formal dining room to peer through the curtains. Perhaps she was at the pool?

No, not at the pool.

There was no reason to be nervous. She hadn't called, and for all I knew she was out at Emmett's house with Rosalie, having a grand time.

I shook my head. I couldn't lie to myself. Things had been different since the incident with the painting. She wasn't with Rosalie. The supermarket was more likely. Bella was nervous, and it was taking all of my energy to reassure her. Emmett wasn't helping. She knew him well enough to see that he was nervous too.

Privately, Emmett was dropping hints to me that perhaps Bella and I should make use of the passports he had made for us and disappear for a while. As much as I hated to admit it, he was likely right. I'd spoken to my father about taking an extended break, and he had been somewhat supportive. Not overly supportive, but then, I hadn't expected he would be. He was getting on in years, and the Cullen Foundation work was demanding. I needed to wrap up some key parts of our education initiative, and then Bella and I would be free to go.

If only I hadn't bought Bella that damn painting. It was supposed to be a symbol of hope, a vision of the kind of place I wanted to show her once the trial was finished. Instead, it mocked us by evoking fear. The painting was still in the foyer, exactly where it was when we arrived. The housekeeping staff didn't know what to do with it, Bella didn't want to touch it, and I had no immediate intention of hanging it.

Maybe Bella was napping? I went upstairs into our bedroom, but it was empty. While I was there I changed out of my suit and into workout clothes. I needed a good run, and since dinner wasn't ready, there was a good chance I could fit it in before we ate.

I picked up the phone in my bedroom and called Bella to let her know I would be back in about an hour. It went to voicemail, which was unusual. I was so surprised I didn't leave a message. I called one more time as I started down the steps, this time with the intention of leaving a message. As it rang, I heard Bella's phone ringing downstairs.

I'd told her a thousand times to never leave home without her phone.

Irritated, I stalked down the rest of the stairs and into the kitchen. Her phone was on the table, but it wasn't the device that caught my eye. A beam of late afternoon sunshine glinted on something on the table.

I knew before I reached the table that it was Bella's ring. Few things refracted light like a quality diamond. I walked all the way to the table and picked up the ring. There were only so many things that Bella's ring on the table could mean, and I didn't want to think of any of them. Instead, I focused on the diamond.

3.8 carats. Cushion cut. Colorless. Very slightly included.

I remembered the day I bought it, for a faceless but courageous young woman. I had no idea what she would like or want, so of course I bought something she didn't appreciate. I held the ring in my hand, moving it slightly to watch the play of the sun among the facets.

My heart was thumping hard in my chest as I tried not to think about the reasons Bella would leave my ring on the table. I saw the folded over piece of paper on the table, but I was afraid to read it.

Our courtship was unconventional, yes, but it was real. She wouldn't leave me this way, with some impersonal note.

I picked up the paper and unfolded it. My hand trembled as I smoothed out the paper on the table.

My first instinct was disbelief. Was this a joke? I mulled that for several seconds, and then decided Bella had a better sense of humor than this. This was Bella's work, for the note was in her handwriting.

What if she'd been kidnapped? If she had been forcibly taken from the house and her kidnapper didn't want to raise suspicion, he would have had her write a note like this one. I hesitated. Kidnapping was unlikely. The Volturi wouldn't bother holding her, and anyone else wouldn't care enough to go through security.

I read the note again, fastening my gaze upon each individual word. The contents hadn't changed. I held the paper up to the light to make sure there wasn't some sort of hidden message to decipher, but there was nothing.

It was still afternoon. I was home earlier than usual. Assuming the note was in earnest, it was possible she hadn't left yet. No cars had been missing from the garage when I pulled in.

I sprinted through the house, checking room after room. With each successive empty room, my spirits fell a little bit more, until I ended up back where I started, holding her ring in my hand.

She was here this morning. At most, she could have been gone eight hours. I could still catch her. I raced down into the security hub to pull the video footage. I saw her packing directly after I left, and the knowledge that she'd planned to leave me hit me like a physical blow. I turned up the speed of the recording and watched her go through the motions of leaving as I flipped from room to room. I saw her climb into the car with the gardener. I barely had the presence of mind to check the time stamp before I turned it off.

She left. There were so many reasons she could have left, but there was no reason she couldn't have told me. We loved each other. At least, I thought we did. I couldn't believe she trusted the gardener to help her over me, but the proof was in front of me.

How could this be? How could she do this to us?

I was so frustrated and hurt, I barely held myself together to call Emmett. He arrived right as I finished outfitting the Mercedes to go after Bella. I didn't know where she was, but La Push seemed like a good guess. If she wasn't there, I could make Jacob's family tell me something.

"You're not going off half-cocked to do something stupid, are you?" Emmett called as he hopped out of his Jeep. My jaw tensed as I realized his Jeep was blocking the driveway out.

"She's only been gone a couple of hours. And that gardener knows something. I can find her." I considered driving through the grounds to avoid the Jeep, but the Mercedes wasn't made for that type of driving. Perhaps an all-terrain vehicle would be a better choice.

Emmett was at my side faster than I anticipated. "You haven't thought this through, have you?"

I refused to look at him. Of course I thought about the ramifications of my actions, but I didn't _care_. I didn't want to be separated from my heart, and Bella was my heart. She made a bad choice, but it didn't change _us_. We could fix this.

"Bro, you can't go after her." Emmett's voice was soft and pleading.

"You're not." I sounded like a petulant younger sibling, and that wasn't far off. Emmett should have already been trailing Bella. He should have been mobilized for action.

"I'm upset she's gone," Emmett said. "Believe me. But you chasing after her like a bat out of hell is going to make things worse."

"Any jilted fiancé would chase his beloved." Bella was worth going after.

"But you'll leave a trail behind you a mile wide. If her cover is blown…"

I hated Emmett for being right. "But if her trail goes cold," I started.

"She'll be a lot safer."

"How will I find her?" My voice broke on the last word.

"She'll have to find us." Emmett's face was impassive.

"I can't accept that."

"Anything you do to search for her will draw attention to her. Given your involvement with the Occhi, you have to assume you're being watched at all times."

The crushing weight of reality brought me to my knees. I was helpless.

**Friday, September 5, 2008**

"Don't try and stop me from talking to him."

The gardener had the nerve to come to work. Gina, my assistant who had been a saint these last few months, rebooked my afternoon meetings so I could leave early. I couldn't go to La Push to tear him apart without raising suspicion, but I could do whatever I wanted on my property.

"We're going to handle this in a calm manner," Emmett said.

"You can handle it however you want. I intend to beat him to a pulp."

"Yeah, that's a great idea, bro. Beat your staff. That won't make anyone suspicious."

I ignored that last comment from Emmett. I could have confronted Jacob alone, but I was afraid I might kill him. As much as I hated to admit it, Emmett was here to keep my temper in check. We were carpooling to my house, since we both intended to go back to work after this confrontation.

Instead of pulling into the garage, I pulled up in front of the house. I wanted to be sure we caught the gardener by surprise, and it was possible he would see the garage open if we used it.

We strode to the back of the house and spotted him immediately. He wasn't even working—- he was chit-chatting with Seth. Seth saw us first, and he must have noticed something about our expressions, because he blanched and dashed toward the pool.

The gardener saw us, and frowned. "Don't you work?" he asked.

He had a death wish. Or maybe he knew I couldn't kill him. Either way, I could barely control my anger.

"Do you think I pay you to chit-chat with Seth?" I growled.

"Look, I don't have anything to say to you. And even if I did, I've got work to do." He had the nerve to turn away from me.

"Your work can wait," I ground out. _He doesn't have anything to say to me_. Right. He helped my fiancée leave me, and he didn't think he needed to answer to me?

Emmett intervened, sticking his hand out to the gardener with a tight smile. "Emmett Cullen."

The gardener hesitated a moment and then took the proffered hand. "Jacob Black."

"Jacob Black," Emmett started, flipping out his badge. "Edward and I have an interest in Bella Lawson, and we'd like to talk to you for a few minutes."

"I don't know anything," Jacob said immediately.

"That's not what my security cameras say." I shot him a baleful look. Jacob was being defensive, and I resisted the urge to grab him and shake him to make him talk faster.

Jacob's eyes widened slightly, and I wondered what other illicit things he'd done on my property. I made a mental note to go through past security tapes as well.

"She asked me for help." Jacob crossed his arms over his chest in a defensive posture.

"Cut to the chase," Emmett said.

Jacob hesitated, unsure whether to tell us anything.

"You're going to tell us, so let's make this easy on everyone." Emmett paused. "We want to help Bella, remember?"

The gardener looked Emmett up and down, and then looked between the both of us. I glared back at him. "Yeah, all right, she came to me for help. She didn't need much, she pretty much had things all figured out. She wanted me to drive her to a train station."

"So people saw her in the car with you?" I cut in.

"Let me talk. Nobody saw her. She curled up under a blanket in the backseat so no one would see her leave with me. And anyway, I didn't take her to a train station. I had an old car in my garage, so I gave it to her."

"So she could be anywhere." Emmett added.

Jacob nodded.

"What's the plate number?" I asked.

Emmett ignored me and instead spoke to Jacob. "You realize if she is found and the license plate on that car is traced back to you…"

"I know. But sometimes you've got to do the right thing. And she needed a vehicle."

"The right thing?" I burst out, not caring who might hear me. "The right thing would've been to tell her to ask for help from people who could give her more than a car that could be traced. The right thing wasn't sending her off in a jalopy."

Jacob snarled, "You just can't stand that she asked me for help instead of you."

I lunged, but Emmett's iron arm held me back.

"Jacob, I think it's a good idea if you take next week off," Emmett said.

"It's a better idea if you never come back," I added.

Emmett shook his head. "No changes that could draw attention to Jacob right now. He's vulnerable given that Bella has his car."

I banged the side of the shed in frustration. Would I never be able to fire this guy?

Emmett got Bella's plate number from Jacob, but at this point I was hardly paying attention. I needed Jacob to leave. I needed everyone to leave. I wasn't going to back to work today. I couldn't. I could call a driver for Emmett.

Bella was somewhere out of reach. Even knowing the plate number wouldn't help me unless the car was flagged by a police station or received a ticket. We had the names from the fake IDs, but we couldn't start an official search for her without raising suspicion. Even calling a private investigator could have negative consequences. Who could we trust? How wide was the net the Volturi were casting? Was the right thing to damn the suspicion and try to find her first? Or was the more prudent course of action to assume she was smart enough to keep the Volturi off her and let her come to us? My heart wanted the former option, but my head believed the latter would keep her safer.

All I could do was hope that she took the initiative to contact us.

* * *

**Thursday, September 11, 2008**

**Emmett**

Bella thought she could protect herself better than I could protect her. Even a week later, it stung.

I'd called the D.A. in North Carolina to let him know our witness had gone AWOL. It wasn't a pleasant conversation, but we agreed there was no reason to assume she wouldn't try to show up to the trial in February. If she didn't show, at least we had her deposition testimony. It might not be enough to sway a jury, but it was better than nothing.

Edward wasn't taking Bella's absence well. He'd holed up in the house and only left for work and an Occhi meeting. He wouldn't take my calls or anyone else's. He looked like some other-worldly raccoon with huge circles under his eyes. I think the only thing that kept him semi-sane was the idea that Bella might call him and ask for help. For everyone's sake, I hoped that happened soon.

This was how the scorecard stood:

--Bella was out on her own, scared and alone.

--Edward had a broken heart and was borderline psycho.

--Libby & Emma were asking about Aunt Bella.

--Mom wanted details on Bella, because Bella wasn't returning any calls.

--Rosalie, well, I'd taken to avoiding my own wife to keep from having to lie to her.

And because my wife is magic, she walked into the room right as I thought of her. She came right up next to me and put her hands palm down on the table.

"Why is Bella gone?" Rosalie asked. Her voice was soft and too sweet. It was how she lured people in before she ripped their throats out.

"Bella's gone?" I answered her question with a question to try and get a better feel for how much she knew and how little I could tell her.

"Her cell phone isn't being answered, and when I called the house, Edward told me she was unavailable."

"Sounds like you know more than I do, sweetheart."

"When I let Jason Jenks in the house to deliver that painting, Bella looked sick. Why?" Rosalie was trying to make me meet her eyes, and I couldn't.

"The two of you were drinking more than fish in the ocean. Not everyone holds their liquor as well as you." Shit. I should have answered her with another question. It didn't matter what statement I used, any statement could be turned against me in a way a question never could be.

"You said that Edward made some enemies. Is that why Bella left him? Was her life threatened? Is that why she called you about that painting?"

"Why are you so concerned about this, anyway?" There. Take that, baby. Another question. Years of marriage had taught me something.

"Can't I be concerned about my brother-in-law's happiness?"

"You don't even like Edward," I pointed out.

"He's still family."

"So this is just about your concern for Edward?"

"No, you dip. I'm worried about Bella. Why would she leave? Are people chasing her to try and get to Edward? She loved him. I know her. She wouldn't just up and leave."

My Rose was way smarter than the average bear. And wasn't that part of the reason I married her? I put a hand over my eyes and took a deep breath. I looked through my fingers at her. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her smile was smug. She knew I was cornered, knew I was going to break. But I couldn't break. Rose absolutely could not know Bella was the witness. The danger was too great. I had to time it just right…

I took my hand off my face and then moved it so I could hold Rose's hand. I took a deep breath and said, "Baby, Bella went back to her ex-boyfriend."

Never had I lied more convincingly. She believed me. I could see it in her eyes.

Never had I felt more like dog shit on the bottom of a shoe. If I had an M4A1, plenty of ammo, and a room full of Volturi—I wouldn't have hesitated to blow them all to smithereens for being scum of the earth that made me lie to my wife.

Rose's bottom lip trembled. "Why? Why would she do that?"

"I don't know. But maybe you could be a little sensitive around Edward? He's broken up about it."

"They were so perfect for each other," Rose cried.

"I know."

* * *

**Friday, September 12 through Saturday, December 13, 2008**

**Edward**

It was bad enough Bella was gone. It was worse that I was enduring daily phone calls from Alice and my mother, who were both concerned about my well-being now that they believed, courtesy of Emmett and Rosalie, that Bella left me for her abusive ex-boyfriend.

Alice offered to have an intervention until I told her that I had no idea where Bella was.

My mother informed me you couldn't help someone until they were ready to help themselves. Sadly, that was my problem. Bella _was_ helping herself, and she was doing it without me. We could have gone away together. I would have made things work. Why couldn't she have told me before she disappeared? Worse, she only took $20,000.

I was never a great sleeper, but as Bella's absence drew out over days and then weeks, my sleep was virtually non-existent. I took to spending my nights with my piano in the music room. I never wrote anything new; my mind was too dead for that. Instead I played through pieces I learned as a child, because those were the ones that sprang to life through my fingers with no conscious bidding on my part.

It didn't matter how long or loudly I played, it was never enough to drown the gardener's voice in my head, reminding me that Bella took help from him instead of from me.

When I played soft, sweet music, it was never enough to block out my memories of Bella and all the things that could have happened but didn't. I spent my hours mourning her loss, but sometimes I was angry with her.

How could she do this to me? To us? She said she loved me, but was it only Bella Lawson who loved me, someone who didn't even exist? Or was it _her,_ whoever she was? I didn't even know her real name. To me, she was Bella. Who was she to herself? Was her whole life with me a lie?

Days drifted into weeks, and before I knew it, Christmas was approaching. My family still called me, and I continued to shut them out. The only family event I'd attended since Bella's disappearance was Libby's birthday, and that had been a disaster. The Cullen Foundation was suffering because I refused to travel. I couldn't risk being out of cell phone range if Bella needed me. My father had stepped forward out of retirement to do some of the traveling. This gave me some guilt, but not enough that I was willing to do anything about it.

There was still no word from Bella, and I had given up on expecting one. At this point, all I could do was pray that she was alive. I consoled myself with the idea that no news was good news, but given that she was keeping a low profile, I wasn't sure that was true. I had taken to electronically searching the newspapers of most major cities to make sure neither of her aliases showed up in print.

I missed her terribly.

Nothing was the same.

Things that used to bring me joy – a fine glass of petit syrah, a meal at Julio's, my music – were all hollow pastimes that failed to hold my interest.

I held things together for my charade with the Occhi, but it hadn't yielded any information of consequence. I nourished a flicker of hope that soon I would be admitted to the inner circle, and thus would have better access to information about our enemies. At this point, the meetings were more private party than information, and I didn't enjoy them. The worst was Victoria. She was under the mistaken assumption that the way to cure my heartache over my lost fiancée was to fool around with her. I had never been partial to redheads or to women who slept around, but she was hard to avoid at meetings. The term "meetings" was a loose one, for only a small bit of the time was devoted to conversation, and the rest was devoted to general debauchery.

I hung the painting I bought for Bella in my bedroom. Our bedroom. It didn't help me sleep, but I liked to envision us together on an island in the sun, somewhere in a reality that never happened. After I stared at it enough, I noticed the artist's signature was missing. I commissioned this painting, it should have been signed somewhere. If not on the face of the painting, then on the back; but, there was nothing to indicate the artist's identity. In a past life, I would have been furious and contacted the artist immediately. I paid a tidy sum for the painting, and it should have been done right. I wasn't that man anymore. I didn't care enough to be bothered. Bella was gone. It made sense that the painting I commissioned for her was flawed.

December was a month filled with charity events, and I was slated to attend a gala with Alice tonight. I didn't want to go, but Jasper was out of town and Alice hated to attend without an escort. That was what she said, but I had never known her to be shy a day in her life. I found it far more likely that Alice expected me to attend the event for some reason that related more to me than to her.

It was irrelevant. She was my sister, and if it would make her happy for me to suffer through an evening out, I would tolerate it. Family supported each other.

Alice met me at the door, and I couldn't help but smile despite of my black mood. She was radiant in an emerald green dress that brought out the sparkle in her eyes and made her skin glow. I kissed her cheek and helped her into the car.

"You look beautiful, sister dear."

"You look rather sharp yourself."

That was the extent of our conversation. We could not talk further without devolving into argument, because Alice would not forgive me for _giving up_ on Bella. She believed that I let Bella go back into an abusive environment without fighting for her, and I couldn't disabuse her of that notion without saying words that would put Alice in danger. We were at an impasse.

The gala was held at a hotel, and while most galas blended together for me, I noticed that I was standing in the very same ballroom I once stood in with Bella. It was early in our relationship, before we even had a relationship. I had asked Bella to dance and she told me she didn't dance.

I danced with Alice several times, and with a few of our larger donors.

When Tanya tapped me on the shoulder, I smiled at her, but it wasn't a real smile.

"A dance, for old times' sake?" she asked.

"Not tonight. Not in the mood." I smiled at her to show it wasn't personal. Tanya and I had a lot invested in maintaining a functional acquaintance, but I couldn't dance with her here while all I could remember was Bella's hurt face when I danced with Tanya all those months ago.

"Too bad," she said, and drifted away.

Dinner went by slowly, and it was a relief to be able to sit down and concentrate on food instead of putting on an appropriate face for socializing. I kept my eyes on my plate most of the time, for Alice and I had the misfortune of being seated across from Jessica Stanley and her date for the evening.

Jessica was seeing someone new, things with Laurent having fallen apart-- presumably because she wanted a ring he would never offer. All through dinner, she tried to flaunt her new beau in front of me, as though I cared who she slept with.

I ignored her successfully until dessert, when she said rather loudly, "So, Edward, whatever happened to that fake fiancée of yours?"

I froze.

Alice piped up, "Bella is one of the truest people I know. And you're a fine one to talk about things being fake – not even your nose is real."

Everything happened in slow motion after that, like a horror movie unfolding.

"Not everyone was born with perfect genes," Jessica snapped, and then looked straight at me. "Why don't you tell everyone at the table about your sham engagement? Laurent told me all about it, you know."

She knew.

God knew how much she knew, or how much of what she had been told was true, but I needed to shut her up. Before I could think better of it, I had Jessica by the arm and was dragging her into a corner.

"If you wanted me alone, Eddie, all you had to do was say the word," she purred.

"I don't know what you know or what you think you know, but you need to stop talking right now."

"What's the matter Eddie? Sensitive subject? Gee, who would have ever thought you had feelings like the rest of us?"

I winced. "Jessica, I'm sorry I hurt you. It certainly wasn't my intention."

"You kicked me out right after one of the best nights of my life. You didn't think that might be hurtful?" Her voice was rising steadily in pitch, and a few people were turning around to see what we were talking about.

"All I can say is that I'm sorry. Things weren't working between us, and I didn't think it would be right to lead you on."

"You're only saying you're sorry to keep me from telling anyone else about your arrangement with Bella. Or should I say Marie?"

I swallowed and closed my eyes. I had to remain calm. Jessica probably had no idea how many people she might be putting in danger by blabbing about this in a gala full of people who were somehow connected to the Volturi.

"Jess, I don't know what exactly you think you know, but this is not a topic to discuss here. If you value your life, you won't say anything else about Bella."

"Oh my God. Are you threatening me? You're threatening me!"

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I hadn't laughed in so long that hysteria almost overtook me. When I stopped and collected myself enough to meet Jessica's gaze, she was glaring at me.

"I'm sorry. It's not funny. And I'm not threatening you. I'm merely asking you to think what might happen to you if you imply you know things about someone who is in hiding."

Jessica paled. She did have a brain, after all. Her lips formed a letter O, and she was rendered silent for the moment.

"You mean she's, like, dangerous? I thought she was your beard."

I blinked. Rapidly. "Excuse me?"

"You mean you're not gay?"

"No."

"I gave you everything a man could want and you sent me home and then shacked up with _her_. She's not even that pretty! What was I supposed to think? And when I overhead Laurent say she wasn't even your fiancée, well, everything made sense."

I gave a quick vow of thanks to the powers that be that I had the foresight to part ways with Jessica Stanley early in our relationship. She was crazy. And probably going to get herself killed if she didn't learn how to keep her mouth shut.

"Look," I said in a low voice, "I know I have no right to ask you for a favor, but I'm asking anyway: Please stop talking about Bella. It will be better for me and safer for you, if you can forget anything you may have heard Laurent say. This isn't a game."

I had to repeat myself several times, and my patience was tested, but we came to an understanding. I watched her walk back to our table as I took in a deep breath. I knew coming tonight had been a mistake, but there was value in knowing Laurent knew Bella's secret.

My reverie snapped when I felt a soft touch on my shoulder.

It was Alice. "How long have you been standing there?"

Her lips were pressed into a thin line. "Long enough that we should have a serious talk."


	22. September 4 to December 23, 2008

**A/N: **This chapter is dedicated to sleepyvalentina.

**Many thanks:** Oxymoronic8, for her invaluable suggestions and brainstorming. Withthevampsofcourse, for her keen eye and confidence. Revrag, for her honesty.

**To everyone:** I did a particularly lousy job at replying to reviews last chapter. As I rush to finish the rest of the story in my limited free time, it is possible I will continue to be remiss at replying. If the lack of a reply will disappoint you, wait to review until the end. It is my intention to reply to everyone who reviews the final chapter.

**Chapter 22**

**Friday, January 11, 2008**

I was working for criminals.

There was no other conclusion I could draw.

I'd spent the last few weeks doing things as usual, determined not to make immediate changes to my life after realizing a few too many people I'd interrogated had gone missing.

I wasn't much of a planner, but even I knew that flipping out was a bad idea. What if I was the next person to disappear? I'd spent some time in my little apartment researching. I looked up all of the people I could remember interrogating. When I saw documents lying on the printer that weren't mine at work, I read them covertly. I watched the interactions in the office, trying to figure out who knew the score and who didn't.

I came to the conclusion everyone in my back little corner of the office seemed to know something illegal was happening.

What I didn't understand was what Volterra was doing with the information that was being gathered.

All Aro ever said was that knowledge was power, but power to do what? And what good was power if you didn't use it? Or did they use it?

I wanted to go to the authorities immediately, but I couldn't see the point. No matter what Volterra was doing, they were so big and so rich and I wasn't idealistic enough to believe the police would do anything.

For my own sanity, I needed to know what was going on.

And so I did something stupid.

I went on a date with Felix.

**September 4, 2008 – September 13, 2008**

The car ride with Jake was uncomfortable. While I knew that no one could see me in a car with him, knowing that and hiding under a blanket for three and a half hours were different things. He turned on the air conditioning on the floor vents, but nothing helped much. I'd assumed his garage was where he lived, an apartment about a half hour from Edward's house. But no, his garage was in La Push, all the way across the state.

Every so often, Jake would ask if I was doing okay.

No, I wasn't okay. The heat was suffocating me to the point that I felt light-headed and nauseated. A neck cramp was coming on from the weird crouching position I was maintaining. Oh, and my heart was wholly and utterly broken.

But I told Jake I was fine.

For the duration of the drive, there was nothing for me to do but focus on my physical discomfort. Once I managed to maneuver into a more comfortable lying down position, my thoughts took over. This was a bad thing because I agonized over all the things I could have done better. For instance, I could have left a note for Edward in the safe—a real note that said something. I mulled over what I would have said to him and decided a better note would have made things worse. It was bad enough I broke up with him by note, but maybe that would make it easier for him to move on.

I couldn't think about Edward moving on, but I did want him to be happy. He deserved to be happy. He could be prickly on the exterior, but on the inside he was generous and considerate and had so much to give. Tears formed in the corners of my eyes, and I blinked them away.

I would not cry. If I let myself cry, I would lose my nerve. I owed it to Edward, to myself, and to all of the Cullens to be strong and smart. I would disappear without any trace leading to them, and Jason Jenks and whoever else had my number would know that I had disappeared. Some damage was probably already done, but I would do what I could to keep them safe.

After an eternity in my dark hidey-hole, the car slowed down, turned onto a dirt road, and finally came to a stop. Two dogs barked in the distance.

"You wait here, Bella. I'm going to open the garage door."

The driver's side door opened and closed, and then opened again when Jake climbed back in. The car's engine turned over, and we crept forward. When I was sure we were in the garage, I threw the blanket off and took several deep breaths.

"Anxious to be out of there?" Jake asked. He was grinning back at me.

I gave him a wan smile as an answer. Sweat had plastered tendrils of my hair to my cheeks and forehead, and the sudden rush of cooler air on my head made me shiver.

Jake opened the door and climbed out. "The car's right here," he said as he tapped a hand on the hood of an orange car next to him. "What do you think?"

It was orange and small and at least ten years old. I'd never seen a car quite like it, and that meant it would stand out. But would it stand out if people didn't know what they were looking for?

"It's great." I attempted a real smile this time. It must have been enough, because he smiled back even wider.

"She's no looker, but she is dependable."

"Your car is a girl?"

"All cars are girls."

I shook my head. The old me would have argued and bantered, but I didn't have the heart now. I wanted to be on my way. "Thanks so much for this, Jake. I can never repay you."

"I'm sure we could think of something…" His voice trailed off suggestively, and he arched an eyebrow. At my stony expression, he backed off. "But really, this is the least I can do to help you."

"Why are you helping me?" Implicit trust of people was my normal state of being, but recent events had made me paranoid.

"Did you ever ask Edward why he helped you?"

I closed my eyes against the pain of hearing Edward's name. "I did. He said it was the right thing to do."

"Well, it was. And so is this." Jake tossed me the keys, not meeting my eyes. "There shouldn't be anyone around at this time of day, but I'll scout out down the road to be sure. Do you know where you're going?"

"I do." It was a lie, but that was okay. If I didn't know where I was going, no one else did, either.

"Follow me out, and I'll lead you to one-oh-one. From there, you should be able to go wherever."

I hugged Jake for being such a good friend. He squeezed me a little too hard, but I didn't mind. Who knew when I'd have another chance for a hug from anyone? I let the embrace draw out a few beats more than was strictly friendly, but I don't think either of us minded. I wasn't interested in him romantically, but he'd been a good friend to me when I needed one.

He opened the door of my new little car for me, and I climbed into the driver's seat. The car started up without hesitation, and it was an easy drive to the highway. The car was small, but it got good gas mileage, and the driver's seat was made for someone with a petite frame. We got along fine. I named the car Renee, for my mom, because this was her kind of road trip: nowhere to be and letting the road take you where it goes.

I spent each day driving, and stayed in a different town every night for more than a week. I tried to stay in towns with funny names or that reminded me of someone I knew. Some places matched up with people more closely than others. One morning I found myself in a café, in a tiny Texas town called Alice. The date on the newspaper told me it was my birthday. I was twenty-five, a quarter of a century old. I didn't like to be the center of attention, so my birthday wasn't a time I looked forward to, but on this birthday I almost wished for a fuss. No one but Edward knew when my birthday was, and I could almost imagine Alice's outrage that I would dare have a birthday without informing her. Edward knew I liked things low-key, so I imagined he wouldn't have planned anything big, but we probably would have gone to dinner somewhere nice. It was Saturday, so maybe we would have taken in the symphony or a play.

I indulged for a few minutes more, thinking of all the things Edward and I might have done to celebrate my birthday. I let myself remember the curve of his jaw, the light glinting off his hair, the low, gravelly voice he saved for our private moments.

This was an old-fashioned place, and there was a pay phone in the corner of the restaurant. No one was using it, despite there being plenty of customers. I finished my coffee, paid the bill, and left a healthy tip. Then, I sat on the chair in front of the pay phone.

I could call Edward. I could tell him I was okay. I could tell him I loved him. He probably hadn't forgotten me yet. He was probably still worried. Or maybe he was mad. I stared at the phone a few minutes more. I knew the phone number by heart.

"Do you need change, hon?" a waitress called out to me from behind the counter.

I shook my head. I was an idiot. I sat in front of the phone so long people were staring. I couldn't call him now. Everyone would remember me.

I left the restaurant, got back in my car, and put miles between me and Alice, Texas. When I took a break to get gas, I considered calling Edward again, but this time I was stronger.

He was safer without me.

**September 14, 2008 – December 11, 2008**

After days and days on the road, I was sick of it. I wasn't anywhere close to Seattle, and I was having back problems from all the driving. Instead of traveling all day, every day, and only stopping to sleep, I took to spending a few days in each place before moving on.

While it was a relief to be stationary, it left me with a lot of time doing nothing. I didn't want to go out and risk being seen, but staying in my room all the time was mind numbing. I read _USA Today_ daily, but that only filled an hour, max. The rest of the time I spent thinking.

When I worked for the Volturi, I didn't ask enough questions. I didn't ask them partly because the questions never occurred to me, but also because I didn't have the nerve. Now, with hindsight, I could look back and see how odd my position there was. They'd put me in my own office next to the boss, with a bunch of people who knew it was a criminal organization. The other new college grads were in the front office, no doubt working on legitimate business.

It smelled funny.

I may not have had the time to puzzle it out back then, but now I had nothing but time. And given that I didn't have a future to consider, figuring this mess out became my mission in life.

I couldn't trust anyone.

Couldn't talk to anyone.

Nighttime was the worst. I was turning into a conspiracy theorist, subsisting on Lifetime movies that gave me nightmares. When the nightmares were so bad I couldn't sleep, I switched to the classic movie station. The end result was that I couldn't turn off the television, because to turn it off was to be alone with my thoughts, and to be alone meant I would think about Edward.

I tried not to think about what things would have been like if I had stayed with him. Tried not think about whether he was seeing someone else, if I was already nothing more than a footnote in the Cullen family history. There would be an asterisk next to those months in 2008, and the words following would say: *_Time we helped poor, unfortunate girl who planned to testify against the Volturi. _

I cut the thoughts of Edward off there. Self-pity wasn't useful, and if thoughts of him continued, I wouldn't be able to hold myself together.

One night, after a particularly violent nightmare, a memory nudged me.

It was something Aro said the day I met him. He told me we'd met before. I ignored it at the time because it didn't make sense and I wasn't in a position to ask about it. Now I wanted to know exactly what he meant.

I stewed on it for two days before I dredged up a memory of a birthday party long ago, and my mom arguing with a scary man. Could that have been Aro? Surely my mom didn't know Aro. I tried to remember what they were arguing about, or some words that were said, but nothing came back to me.

I went to the Internet. The hotel had free Wi-Fi, and I put it to use googling my mother.

I knew almost nothing about her family. She ran away from them at eighteen. That was how she met my father. She was alone and needed a place to stay. He was a chivalrous new cop who wouldn't let her sleep on the streets. It turned into something more, and less than a year later, I was born.

While Grandma Swan would regale me with stories about my dad catching snakes in the gully as a child, there was no one to tell me about my mom's past. When I was small, she told me she was born the day she met my dad, and I spent a few confused years trying to figure out how that was possible. At age eight, I asked her more direct questions, but she ignored me. When I was fifteen, I thought she would share things with me because I was more mature, but she was a master at changing the subject. When I told her she was avoiding the issue and talked back to her, she grounded me. It was the only time she ever grounded me. After that, my dad pulled me aside and told me if I ever asked her about her past again, he would make me sorry. He didn't make idle threats, and I stopped asking.

When she was dying of cancer in a hospital, the last thing on my mind was asking about her family. Instead, I made her comfortable as best I could and held her hand. We talked about lots of things, but mostly she wanted to hear about me. She knew she would never see me grow old, and she wanted us to talk about me as much as she could.

Now I was ready to kick myself for not asking more about her family.

Who were they? Puzzling through things was a good diversion, and I went into it with a fresh zeal. When my search for information on my mother yielded nothing, I instead searched for information about the Volturi to answer the question of why a thoroughly average girl from Arizona would catch the eye of Aro.

There was more on the Internet than I anticipated. I would have thought people would be too scared to put information online—after all, Demetri spent his whole day tracking down people who needed to be found. I could only imagine that Aro considered people posting personal information about the Volturi and private information about Volterra, Inc. to be reason enough for finding someone.

And I well knew what happened to people the Volturi "found" who didn't have information to add to the Volterra knowledge base.

I couldn't get the image of Aro in my childhood house out of my head. Was he really there? Maybe I was misremembering… but he said he met me before, and that was the only thing that made sense. I refused to believe my mother ever slept with him, and it was equally ludicrous to believe my little family had any information the Volturi would have wanted. That left only one possibility.

My mom was related to Aro?

No.

No way was I related to that creeper.

But what if I were? What if Aro was her dad? It seemed unlikely, but what other conclusion could I draw? He was old enough to be her dad. That would make him my grandfather. An hour of searching yielded Aro's last name, something I had never known in all the time I worked with him.

He had mother's maiden name.

I put my head down in my arms and cried.

That was why he was in my house.

That was why he gave me a scholarship.

That was why I was in the back part of the office.

He must have thought I was a lousy granddaughter when I went to the authorities.

Another week, another town.

I switched hotels every week to avoid drawing attention to myself. It didn't matter how mired in self pity or misery or fear I was, I forced myself into the car, drove across a state line, and stayed somewhere new.

I bought myself a gift Mastercard with a balance of half of the money I took from Edward so that I could buy things I needed.

Julie Chamberlain, a.k.a. me, earned a boatload of Best Western points. And with the Best Western points, she purchased Barnes & Noble gift cards. The books were an indulgence, because I didn't have room to take them with me. I could only take what fit in the trunk, and that was a suitcase, a duffel bag, and a small cooler. The books were a no-no. I justified their expense by rationalizing that they were essentially free, since I had to pay for the hotel room. When I switched towns, I used the GPS I'd purchased to find a local library where I could donate the books. It was a small thing, but it made me feel human. It didn't fit my _What Would Rosalie Do?_ motto, but I thought Edward would approve. And I wanted to _feel_ close to Edward, since I would never _be _close to him again.

It wasn't until the revelation of my family tree that I realized I'd been holding on to the idea that maybe, when this was over, Edward and I could be together again. Now that I knew I came from a family of law-evading killers, I had to accept that I wouldn't be with Edward ever again. Even when the trial ended, supposing I survived, there was no witness protection plan secret enough to keep me away from the Volturi. I was _family_. They would find me.

I was doomed.

I shouldn't have been surprised. In my head, I was still Bella Lawson, Edward's fiancée. But I gave up the right to be her when I put the ring on the table. I was Marie Swan now, and Marie didn't lead the charmed life Bella did.

All I'd wanted was to be an English teacher. Was that so much to ask for?

Yes, apparently it was. Instead of teaching in a high school in some small suburb of Phoenix, I spent my time jumping from hotel room to hotel room. I'd disconnected myself from everyone and everything I cared about. I was jittery and nervous whenever I heard a noise in the hallway. I watched my rear-view mirror so much that I almost rear-ended someone the previous day. And all this was so I could testify against the people who I now knew were the only living family I had left.

I was doing the right thing. My mother cut all ties and left them. She was so young, and she managed to get away. A little piece of me wondered if she knew the things they did. Could she have gone to the authorities years ago?

It was a question I couldn't know the answer to.

All I could know is what I would do. I would testify. I hadn't worked out all the details about getting to the trial without Emmett's support, but I would think of something. I wanted him involved as little as possible. His family needed him.

It took me weeks to come to peace with the knowledge that I was related to killers, but I did.

I started eating again. Not a ton, but enough to sustain me. I needed to be strong to testify.

Coming to peace with a reality without Edward was a slower process.

Who was I kidding? It wasn't a process at all. They say time heals all wounds, but they would be wrong.

Time deadens wounds that are too deep to heal, but they never go away.

**December 12, 2008**

I was careful.

I kept a low profile.

I wore a hat and sunglasses at all times when outside during the day.

I did as little as possible that was traceable.

Despite my best efforts, I was driving through town on my out to the highway, and someone was following me.

_Breathe, Bella_.

What would Rosalie do?

_Rosalie would lose them, dummy_.

I considered letting my pursuer follow me out to the highway, but my car didn't go all that fast. I needed to lose the pursuer while I was in town. I cranked the steering wheel to make a sudden right turn. I weaved through traffic for a while, keeping to a strict series of unpredictable turns.

I moved through the traffic so much that I couldn't figure out if I was still being followed. It seemed like I was in the clear, so I pulled into an alley to hide.

I was on my own this time. There was no Emmett coming to save me, a fact that was apparent when I realized this was a dead-end alley, and a car had pulled in behind me, cutting off my escape.

My heartbeat thudded in my ears. The adrenaline was pumping, but there was nowhere to go. I could run on foot, but I would have to make it past the car behind me. That was no good. What if he had a gun? With that thought, I slid low in my seat. No use getting shot in the back of the head.

I would wait for the driver of the car to come and shoot me from the front.

No.

I didn't want to be shot at all. I started to panic, and closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I needed to be calm.

_Think, _I admonished myself_._ I failed at being Rosalie, because she would have lost them several blocks ago.

What would Emmett do? He would have a gun, and he would shoot them. That wasn't going to work for me.

What would Edward do? He wouldn't have been in this situation in the first place.

The adrenaline created a distracting din in my head, and it was growing difficult to think.

What would Esme do? Esme wouldn't assume she was in mortal danger. She would wait and make sure it was an enemy behind her.

That wasn't going to work either. Esme was practically a saint. She didn't have any enemies to worry about.

Each second felt as though it was made up of hundreds of tiny pieces of time, and I could detect each one of them passing. I darted my hand up to adjust my rearview mirror so I could see behind me. The windows of the car were tinted, but I could see the outline of a man's head through the glass. He was moving, and fear paralyzed me. He opened his door, and I knew he was coming for me. I couldn't see his face as he stepped out of the car, and I prayed it wasn't one of the Volturi. I considered channeling Emmett and ramming the car behind me to try and escape, but my car was a lightweight.

There was a slim possibility I could throw the car in reverse at an angle and hit the man with my car.

I'd never killed anyone, and I didn't think I could do it now, either.

While I mulled my options, time ticked away and they began to disappear.

I was slunk too low in the seat to look back over my shoulder and see his approach. My rearview mirror was only showing me his chest and his waist. He was wearing a business suit. One hand was in his pocket. Could that be a gun? He had a bit of a gut, which meant it wasn't Felix or any of the other Volturi I would have expected to come after me. That was good, right?

I took deep breaths, willing myself calm. I would stay low, and if he came close enough, I would slam him with the driver's door. The alley was tight. With a little bit of luck I could hit him into the brick wall and then steal his car.

Yes.

That was my new (far-fetched) plan.

I expected him to have a gun.

I expected him to be a menacing thug.

Instead, it was… Jason Jenks?

He had his hands in the air and no gun. He was gesturing like he wanted to talk to me. Like a fool, I rolled down the window.

"Marie," he said, and he looked a little bit relieved. "Thank goodness I caught you."

"I'm sure Aro will reward you richly." My voice cracked.

Jason cast a nervous glance over his shoulder. "You think I want to turn you over to... to them?"

"Why else would you be following me?" I demanded. "You know my name. You're obviously connected to the Volturi." If Jason wasn't working for the Volturi, what did he want with me? I put a hold on the idea of slamming him with the car door, wondering the whole time if I was doing the right thing.

"You really don't remember me, do you?" He shook his head. "It doesn't matter. We can discuss the finer points later. Right now we need to get you out of here."

"What?" I was now thoroughly confused. If this was all a game to mess with my head, it was working.

"Your car and license plate are known. Come with me."

"But why am I still alive?"

Jason cast another look over his shoulder. "This isn't safe. We can talk later. Get in my car."

What choice did I have? Even if I refused to get in his car, I was parked in. I could run on foot, but how far would I get? I was in a strange city, and I'd taken so many turns, I had no idea where I was.

Could I trust Jason Jenks, or was this all an elaborate ruse to take me somewhere sinister? I searched his face for something, any clue that would tell me what to do. The only vibe I got from him was anxiety. That could mean anything.

I exited my car and let Jason Jenks hustle me into his. Emmett would have a fit, but he wasn't here. If Jason could find me, who knew how many other people were watching me?

Once we were on our way, I let my fingers wander over the leather seats of his Mercedes. Neither of us said anything. He appeared to be concentrating on the road, and I still wasn't sure if he was saving my life or taking me to my demise. We drove for several hours. Road signs indicated we were going to St. Louis.

I didn't feel comfortable this close to Chicago, where the U.S. operations of Volterra, Inc. were based, but I didn't say anything. Jason drove us into the heart of downtown, to the Ritz-Carlton. He gave his keys to the valet and ordered a bellhop to haul my luggage. He checked into a room, and we both went up there together. I was a little unnerved that the concierge assumed we were husband and wife-I'd had enough of that kind of pretending to last me a lifetime-but I reminded myself that Jason had a wife already. This was a brief sham to keep from drawing attention to me. Nothing more, nothing less.

The room was a suite. It had two rooms, a bedroom and a front room complete with sofa, loveseat, and coffee table. There was even a dining table with chairs set up in a corner by a window. Compared to the Best Western, it was a palace.

I exhaled a puff of air as I inspected the room. I had half-expected to be greeted by one of the Volturi or one of their employees, and I was relieved it was just me and Jason.

"Is it later yet? Can we talk now?" I asked.

He handed me the room service menu. "Dinner first."

I opted for a burger. He ordered a three-course meal.

"You don't remember me at all, do you?" He perched on the end of an armchair, leaning forward toward me.

"Should I?

He smiled thinly. "I like to think I'm memorable, but maybe I'm not to young ladies."

"You seem familiar, but I can't place you. Why did you come find me?"

"We met when you were a fresh face with Volterra, Inc. I doubt you'd been there long when they sent you to greet me. It was obvious you had no idea what the organization did. Your job was to be a friendly and pretty face."

"I was a greeter for a while," I affirmed.

"I had a, well, I'm not sure how to put this. I don't always see eye to eye with Caius."

"Nobody does. He hates everyone."

"Not everyone." Jason drew in a breath and continued, "I had to tell Caius something he didn't want to hear. I went in there one night with the idea that I might die. But they sent you to pick me up from the airport, and you were a bright light on a dark night. You were very kind. After I survived my meeting with Caius, you took me to dinner.

"We had a conversation about philosophers, Plato in particular, and you let me decompress and escape for a few minutes. I remember you fondly." He ran a hand through his thinning hair and waited for my response.

"You tracked me down out of _fondness_?" I was incredulous.

"No, silly girl, I'm helping you because I want you to be alive to testify."

"You're helping me?"

"I'd rather not go on the record about it, but yes." He looked away.

"But the painting you took to Edward's house… why?" My words were jumbled in my head, and they weren't coming out right. I was overwhelmed.

"The Volturi found you and were keeping an eye on your actions. I was warning you in the best way I could."

"You couldn't have sent a letter? Or a text? Or something obvious?"

"If you would have bothered to look at the painting, you would have realized the top level of paint is a forgery. Underneath the paint was my message."

There was a knock at the door, indicating our food had arrived. Jason tipped the waiter, and we ate in silence for several minutes.

When my burger was halfway gone, I set it down and looked Jason in the eye. "A little subtle with the painting, weren't you?"

"I had to be. And anyway, Mr. Cullen would have noticed something was wrong with the painting. I counted on his intelligence."

I wondered whether Edward had read the message after I left. "You know, I left right after you came by the house."

He speared a fork full of salmon. "Not exactly the action I was trying to elicit."

I set my jaw to keep from snapping at him. If he wanted a particular outcome, he could have said something to us in plain English instead of scaring me into sudden action.

"Do you still work for the Volturi?" I kept my voice sweet to hold back my annoyance. This guy was on my side, kind of, and I needed him to stay that way.

"Technically, I don't work for them. I _do_ work for them. There is a difference."

"Why don't you stand up to them, then?" I wasn't unique. Other people had consciences. Surely, I couldn't be the only person to witness the evil that was the Volturi. Why hadn't anyone else stepped forward?

Jason winced. "Too much to lose. You're a better person than I am."

I stared at him. _He had too much to lose._ I'd lost everything that meant anything to me. Here he was, helping a little bit where no one could see. He would sleep fine at night in his thousand-count sheets, secure in the knowledge that he helped me. Me, I would be running for my life.

Burger gone, I nibbled a fry and pushed my plate away. Something besides his obvious cowardice was bothering me. "You said I'm in danger, so why haven't they killed me?"

"Why would they need to? If they know where you are, they don't have to worry about you until just before the trial."

That thought didn't give me the warm fuzzies, and it didn't make complete sense, either. There was a piece of the puzzle I was missing. "How am I safer now in this hotel than I was yesterday?"

"I've reason to believe they've lost track of you about, say, six hours ago?"

My eyes widened. "You did something?"

His Cheshire cat grin answered my question, and my icy feelings toward his cowardice thawed some.

"I'm anonymous again?" I asked eagerly. I smiled a real smile.

"I believe so." He hesitated, and then added, "Be careful with it this time. Travel by taxi or bus, stay out of the public eye, and avoid Best Westerns."

"They have a good points program," I pointed out a bit defensively.

My brain was in overdrive, considering what this new anonymity could mean. What I yearned for was a way to justify seeing Edward again, or maybe just hearing his voice would be enough. I could sneak to a pay phone and call his cell. If he answered, I would hang up right away. If he didn't, I would have the pleasure of hearing his voicemail pick up. Either way, I would hear his smooth baritone in my ear. I basked in the possibility for several seconds, until I remembered Edward was probably being watched, and contacting him might reveal my location.

My spirits fell again at the realization that nothing changed for Edward and me, but I tried to remain positive. Anonymity wouldn't change much in the everyday scheme of my existence, but at least it made it easier for me to make it to the trial. That was my end goal.

Jason interrupted my reflections by speaking. "Do remember you'll still be in danger getting to the trial."

"Like I could forget," I muttered. With a catch in my voice, I asked, "Will you tell Edward that I'm safe?"

Jason put a kind hand on my shoulder, and I managed not to flinch. "You have my word."

**Tuesday, December 23, 2008**

The Jason Jenks episode shook me. I took his advice, for the most part, though I confess I cashed out the rest of my Best Western points for gift cards. It would have been wasteful not to. I missed Renee. I shouldn't have named the car after my mother because now I was sad I'd had to abandon her.

The Volturi knew I was alive. They were watching me before Jason found me, and they might be watching me still. My whole existence devolved into looking over my shoulder. Nowhere was safe.

I started staying in nicer hotels, because room service made life easier. I rarely left my room, so there were few ways I could be surprised. Every time food was delivered, I would peer through the peephole and assure myself it was hotel staff at the door. It occurred to me that someone could poison my food, so I had taken to tasting each dish, waiting a half hour, and then eating if no ill effects overtook me. No poison yet.

The fancier hotels put a significant dent in my $20,000. The Best Western might have been off the highway, and it might not have been the cleanest, but it had been cheap. Staying in swanky digs and surviving on room service was turning me into a pauper.

My only real outing from the hotel was to the laundromat. Back when I stayed in Best Westerns, I used their laundering service, but now I was on a budget. I was able to wash and dry my clothes for much cheaper than what the hotels charged. As an added bonus, going out of the hotel meant I could request maid service; something I hadn't had since Sunday.

I'd left Edward's with a week's worth of outfits. Although I put up with a lot of things in my quest to be inconspicuous, I wouldn't abide wearing dirty things. I packed my dirty clothes into my suitcase; along with my small box of powder detergent, my Downy ball, and a bottle of Spray N Wash; and rode the bus to the laundromat.

It was morning, and most people were presumably at work, so I had the place to myself. The interior was bright and sunny, courtesy of a south-facing front that had floor-to-ceiling glass. Even in deserted, benign places, I kept waiting for the moment someone approached me accidentally-on-purpose, put a gun to my ribs, and lead me to a quiet alleyway where I could die.

Yes, I was becoming morbid.

I separated my darks and lights and set the washers running. While the machines ran, I wore a baseball cap low over my eyes and slouched at a table where I kept my face buried in a favorite book. Being outside of the confining walls of a hotel was liberating, if not comforting.

The trial date wasn't until February, and I wasn't sure how I was going to survive the upcoming weeks. The hotel rooms were driving me crazy and my funds were low. I was considering going to a homeless shelter and pretending to be homeless – wait, I was homeless, wasn't I? – but I didn't want to put other residents of the shelter at risk. If they were in the shelter, presumably they were already down on their luck, right?

The washing cycle finished, and I shifted my clothes to the dryer. I sat back down at the table and started reading _Romeo and Juliet_ for the umpteen millionth time. I preferred the slim paperback version, but today, in deference to my situation, all I had was a hefty tome of the Bard's collected works. I turned each paper-thin page with reverence as I re-read the part where Juliet awoke, saw Romeo, and killed herself. My eyes were a little teary, because if timing and fate had been kinder, they would have had their happily ever after.

I didn't hear the door open, but I felt a blast of cold, winter air. The unshed tears in the corners of my eyes made my vision blurry as I looked up to see who had opened the door. A man had entered the laundromat. He was in a bulky, black winter coat. He wore a hat. The sun was behind him, throwing his face into shadow.

It was normal business hours. A man entering the laundromat shouldn't have made me nervous, but I couldn't see one of his hands. Was it in his pocket? Behind his back? I tried to convince myself it didn't matter where his hand was. There was no reason anyone would know I was here. He probably wanted to have clean clothes, just like I did.

Then I realized he wasn't carrying any laundry.

I froze.

This was it.

I was going to die.

He looked straight at me, and I acted on instinct. In one fluid motion, I stood up and hurled _The Collected Works of William Shakespeare _at his mid-section. When I saw him double over, I grabbed my bottle of Spray n Wash. As soon as he looked up, I sprayed him right in the eyes and started to run.

His fingertips caught my arm, but I was already out the door.

I didn't have my coat or my laundry, but I still had my Spray n Wash and my feet were flying.

With several yards between me and the laundromat, I stole a look over my shoulder to see if he was pursuing me.

My heart stopped.

He'd taken off his hat to wipe the stuff out of his eyes. In the late-morning sunshine, his hair glinted bronze.

As if he sensed me looking at him, he straightened for a moment to meet my gaze. I had to cover my mouth with my hand to keep from crying out. His face was too gaunt and his coat was too cheap, but his identity was unmistakable.

It was Edward.

I ran back without a second thought and threw myself into his arms. He winced as he caught me.

Edward was trying to tell me something, but it barely registered. He was here. And I'd missed him. And he'd looked for me.

"Bella," he murmured.

"Hmm?"

"I need to rinse my eyes out, and then we need to leave. Get your clothes."

The whites around his eyes were shot through with red, and I felt a surge of guilt as I watched him bend over the laundromat sink to wash out his eyes.

"Your clothes," he said, sounding irritated, "or we won't have time for them."

I whisked my still-damp clothes out of the dryer and into my suitcase. As I was reaching for my last sock in the dryer, Edward grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the exit.

"Let's move."

He led me into a dark, narrow side street, and I didn't resist. I would have gone anywhere with him. We slipped into a black sedan, and before my seatbelt was on, Edward was driving.

It was not the kind of car I would have normally associated with Edward. The seats were plush, but they were fabric rather than leather. The dash was cheap plastic. It was an American car.

He noticed my appraisal of the car. "It was all I could get on short notice." He added, "It doesn't stand out, which is an advantage."

"I'm staying at the Windsor," I said softly. No one could hear us now that we were in the car, but I wasn't sure if this was reality or not. If I spoke too loudly, it might shatter the fantasy. If this were a fantasy, though, Edward's eyes wouldn't be on fire and I would still have all my socks.

"I know. A friend of mine is pretending to be you for a few days. She's in your room now."

I blinked several times, my hands twisting together in my lap. "But, how did she get my key?"

"She showed ID to the front desk and they gave her another set of keys to replace the ones she 'lost.'"

I made a mental note that expensive hotels weren't any more secure than cheap ones. "Where are we going?"

"Away. It's not safe for you around here."

"Then it's not safe for you either," I said in a rush. "If something happened to you…"

I watched Edward's profile. The muscles in his jaw were working overtime, and I wondered what words he was fighting back.

Finally, he said, "I'm well capable of making my own decisions. I have a plane waiting for us at the airport. Will you come with me?"

"But… the Cullen Foundation… who will explain your absence?"

"Will you come with me?"

"You'll be in danger…"

"Marie, will you accompany me?"

He said my name. He knew my name.

It sounded wrong. And right.


	23. December 23, 2008 to January 4, 2009

**A/N: **This is dedicated to my dear friend Oxymoronic8, without whom I would have abandoned this story a long time ago.

Thanks are also due:

To Oxymoronic8 and WTVOC, thank you for your beta efforts. This chapter is the better for them.

To Teena, a belated thanks for helping comb typos out of chapters 1-10.

An abbreviated recap for those who can't remember wtf is happening in this story:

Bella ran away to protect Edward, leaving him nothing but her engagement ring and a note. She's been on the run for a few months. While on the run, she had a little help from Jason Jenks. Jason said he was on her side, and warned her to be more careful covering her tracks. At the end of the last chapter, Edward found Bella but said she was in imminent danger. He asked her to come with him, and she agreed.

Also, my chapters usually start with a flashback to Marie's old life, and this one is no different. In our last flashback, Marie realized she was working for criminals. To get more information, she decided to go on a date with Felix.

If you need more than that recap, no hard feelings if you peace out now. It has, after all, been an embarrassingly long while since this story updated.

Fair warning: this chapter tops 10,000 words.

* * *

**Chapter 23**

* * *

**Friday, January 11, 2008**

During our date, Felix took a call from Aro. He didn't say it was Aro, but I knew.

He didn't hide his conversation from me. He probably didn't think he had to. Why would he? I worked in the same area he did. It was while he was talking to Aro that I realized what Felix did for the Volturi and why he was all brawn.

He was the one who made people disappear. Maybe he didn't handle everyone – there were about twenty people in our department, after all – but what he was agreeing to now was a killing. I was sure of it.

The phone volume was high enough that in the quiet car that I could make out enough of Aro's voice to know he was giving Felix personal details about someone. And I definitely heard, _I'm glad I can trust you with this_. To which Felix replied, "I'll take care of him."

My palms broke into a cold sweat.

Felix ended his call and smiled at me. "Sorry about that."

"Um. It's no problem."

"You know how he is."

Yes, I was rapidly learning how he was. I shuddered. Felix misinterpreted it as a shiver and turned up the heat in the car.

He took me to a decent pizza place, where we were seated at a booth. I sat down on one side, and then Felix slid in next to me, boxing me in. I felt the eyes of other people in the restaurant on us, and I realized we looked like one of _those_ couples—the creepy ones who sit on the same side of the table together. I shrugged off the stares and focused instead on surviving my date.

Our conversation was a blur. I tried to say yes and no in the right places. The pizza was crispy and gooey, and I inhaled it because it gave me something productive to do with my fidgety hands. When Felix put his arm around me, pulled me close to him, and moved to kiss me, I didn't know what to do. I hadn't previously considered how far I was willing to take this charade. I hesitated for a moment, and that was enough to save me. I felt a vibration against my thigh.

"Damn phone," he muttered.

I thought Felix was going to ignore it, but he probably didn't have that luxury with a boss like Aro. Aro never called me after business hours, but I was pretty sure Felix had a different sort of job.

He thrust his hand between us to extract his phone and flipped it open. I was inches from Felix, so I heard every word Aro said to him. But I would have heard the conversation if I had been further away, because Aro was livid.

_When I ask you to take someone out, you don't hesitate._

Felix held the phone slightly from his ear and turned the volume down. He gave me an apologetic look as he said to Aro, "I'm not hesitating. I'm in the middle of something. I'll make good on it. I told you I would."

_He's at my office, you dimwit, with a dozen of his closest friends._

"Oh," was Felix's stellar reply. Felix wasn't the brightest bulb in the pack. I could see the wheels in his head turning. "So you want me there, right now, don't you?"

_Right. Now._

I saw our waiter and gestured to him that we needed the check, and he brought it promptly. I reached into my purse to pay my portion, but Felix stopped me. He was still listening to Aro, so I was surprised he noticed what I was doing. My previous experiences with him led me to believe that he couldn't walk and chew gum at the same time. Maybe there was more to him than I thought.

Considering that I believed Aro and Felix to be discussing a murder, I was strangely calm. Or maybe I was grateful Felix wasn't kissing me anymore. I folded my hands in my lap as I waited for Felix to end the call.

"Marie, I'm real sorry, but would you mind if we made a quick run to the office?"

"That was Aro on the phone?"

"He's a freakin' drama queen."

I nodded in agreement, which was the best I could manage given the circumstances. Aro was indeed overdramatic, but I was a lot more concerned about his other less-than-sterling qualities.

"We gotta go. I'll drop you off after I take care of this."

"Okay," I replied. It wasn't until I was in the car that I realized I'd agreed to wait patiently while people were murdered.

Oh heck.

Murdered.

This whole thing was spinning out of control. I went on a date with Felix to find out how much he knew, not to become a material witness.

I didn't like Felix, but did I want to send him to jail? I pondered whether there was a covert way to call 9-1-1 from the car. And if I called, what would I tell them? _Go to the Volterra headquarters where some people are going to be killed? They haven't been killed yet, but I have it on good authority they will be. _That might be a possibility, but how would I call them? Somehow I doubted Felix would fail to notice me making a call.

The pizza sat in my stomach like a rock. I had eaten too much, too fast, and I regretted it keenly. Buildings and trees whizzed by as we tore through downtown.

I chanced a look at the speedometer and realized we were going well over one hundred. Felix had good peripheral vision, which I guess would be an enviable quality for a henchman, because he saw my furtive look without taking his eyes from the road.

"We won't wreck. I got good reflexes."

"But, the cops? If they stop us, we'll be so late."

He chuckled. "You're funny, Marie. I like you."

I wasn't sure how to respond. Was he laughing because he thought I was joking? Or because the cops were a joke?

We arrived in a war zone in the parking garage below the Volterra, Inc. offices. Aro, Caius, and Marcus were all there. Aro and Caius had their guns drawn and cocked, and I worried they might shoot the car on sight. Marcus had a gun held limply in his hand and wore a distant expression, as though he was there in body but not in mind. Felix might have had that same concern, because he parked us behind a cement pillar. When we stepped out of the car, we could see several bleeding bodies on the other side of the pillar. Dead, I presumed. The scents of gunpowder and blood hung in the air.

"Holy shit," Felix muttered under his breath. In a slightly louder voice, he added, "Marie, is your car in the deck?"

"Uh-huh."

Two shots rang out, and I saw that Aro and Caius had both fired into a corner. I looked where they had aimed and saw a body fall. My breaths came too fast, and the edge of my vision seemed to darken. Or maybe it was just dark down here. I hoped it was dark enough to obscure us, because otherwise, Marcus was looking right at us.

"Why don't you get outta here? We can try another date tomorrow, but I got to take care of this mess."

I stiffly nodded my agreement as I watched him take off toward the three leaders of Volterra, Inc.

I had self-preservation enough to want to go to my car and enough presence of mind to be disturbed that Felix seemed to think I'd be perfectly okay postponing our date until tomorrow while he did his bloody business. Yes, my car was in the deck, but I'd have to walk past the men with guns to get to it. I wasn't sure I could walk steadily. I might have been in shock. My feet moved, taking me to the stairwell. I opened the door and ducked inside. I curled up in a corner and waited.

There was a skinny window on either side of the door to the stairwell. I was shielded from the view of the people in the parking lot, but I could still see what was happening. I saw all the Volterra men fire their guns. I heard screams. It was a nightmare, and I couldn't look away. I knew I needed to go call the cops, but I was frozen in place. After the gunshots were over, I heard yelling, and I presumed it was Caius giving Felix a hard time for being late.

I closed my eyes and tried to pretend I was somewhere else. I don't know how long I waited there, curled into a little ball at the bottom of the stairwell, on the verge of puking. I waited until my eyesight cleared, my breathing evened out, and I couldn't hear any noises. When I finally chanced another look through the window by the door, nobody was out there. The bodies were gone, too, though the blood stains remained.

I wanted to freak out, but I'd already done that, and I couldn't sit in the stairwell all night. I cracked open the stairwell door, determined to make a mad dash to my car, but the scene was too real. The smell of sulfur, the smears of blood—that was all I could take. I lost my dinner all over the stairwell. I needed to be away from the scene. I took the steps up one level to get away from the puke and the everything else.

There was vomit on my arm. I wiped my sleeve against the wall, but it was to no avail. I felt like Lady Macbeth trying to wash the blood off her hands, except she didn't have real blood on her hands, and I still had puke on me. And my nose was running. Instead of going to my car (that I wasn't fit to drive anyway), I made a decision. I took the elevator up to the office. By now, surely Felix told Aro he was with me. If Aro was at the office, I would play dumb. If he wasn't up there, I was getting my sweater, a tissue, and a cup of coffee.

I meandered through the catacomb of hallways until I reached the annex, the part where Aro, Caius, Marcus, Heidi, Felix, and a few others of us had our offices. I walked slowly and quietly, listening for stray noises. There was nothing but eerie silence. This was the first time I'd ever been in the office alone. Just this morning, I'd wanted to know what Volterra was up to, and now I knew murder was involved. The phone on the corner of my desk was within easy reach. I could call the police right now.

But it would be stupid to call the police from my own extension, wouldn't it? Without thinking on it too hard, I pulled the sweater from the back of my desk chair, blew my nose on a tissue, and then I walked next door into Aro's office to use his phone. I'd been in his office before, but never without him in it. And tonight was different, because he'd obviously been in his office before the killings went down. His gloves were on his desk, along with his hat and a silver key that I knew would open his filing cabinets.

I closed my eyes again and willed myself calm. I could call the police right now, from Aro's phone, like I planned, or I could open the filing cabinets and find out what Volterra really did. Aro might come back at any moment, and if he caught me here...

Curiosity was going to be the death of me, I knew, but I opened those filing cabinets anyway. Who knew if I would ever have another opportunity like this one? I stayed there, in Aro's office, reading by the dim light for longer than I intended. I heard a few faint noises. It was the wee hours of the morning, and it was probably a cleaning crew, but I didn't want to be seen. I grabbed several of the files, relocked the filing cabinet, and sneaked out of the office. I passed a man with a mop, but I don't think he saw me. By the time I reached my car, I was shaking so hard I almost couldn't open the car door.

When I finally managed to collapse into the driver's seat, I didn't drive home. I didn't call the cops. I drove to the nearest FBI field office.

**Tuesday, December 23, 2008**

The needle on the speedometer kept inching forward. The car may not have stood out, but Edward was weaving through traffic in a way that would proclaim to anyone that he was in a hurry. His knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and it was the first time I ever saw him drive with both hands on the wheel.

Things were happening too fast. I forced myself to breathe while I kept my eyes glued on the mirror in the passenger seat sun visor.

We were being followed, and I had a feeling it wasn't Jason Jenks behind us. Edward was better at this game than I was, because he didn't end up driving into any blind alleys. He worked his way through the city methodically, changing lanes seemingly at random and taking fast turns.

It took fifteen heart-wrenching minutes, but he lost the car tailing us.

Relieved, I shot him a tentative smile. "Nice driving."

Edward didn't comment. He still had a death grip on the steering wheel.

"We lost them, right?" I was suddenly unsure.

"There are two more behind us."

"Two?" I repeated, dumbly. "Should I keep my head down?"

Edward didn't answer. Instead, he made a hard left turn into oncoming traffic that was so tight, I thought the Volturi wouldn't need to kill me. I stared, horrified, as we missed being t-boned by a Hummer by inches.

As soon as I assured myself I was indeed alive, a terrible thought occurred to me. "Do they know you have a plane waiting at the airport?"

"Hope not."

"If they found us here, mightn't they guess…?"

"It's not waiting at this airport," he said distractedly. "Shit."

Edward glanced in his blind spot, swerved, and then floored the accelerator. The car jumped forward so fast my back melded to the seatback.

It felt like I was underwater. Things were happening, but time slowed down so I could experience every split second. Traffic was whizzing by all around, but I could see details I would normally miss: the girl in the Beetle texting while she drove, a man smoking in his car, a child making faces at us through a window, the black car that was still tailing us.

Edward tried to lose that last car, but he couldn't. He made sharp turns. He ran red lights. He wove through traffic. Nothing worked. His mouth was set in a grim line.

"If we can't lose them soon," he ground out, "we might need to try and lose them on foot."

That sounded precarious, but I didn't say anything. My stomach was turning over, and I wanted to puke. I couldn't tell if it was carsickness from the jerky driving or guilt for putting Edward in danger. Maybe it was a little bit of both.

We were almost to the city limits. Traffic was thinning, and in the distance a sign raised the speed limit from 35 to 45 mph. If we couldn't lose them downtown, how could we lose them on the city straight-aways?

I closed my eyes, so I missed what happened behind us, but I heard the crunch of metal and felt the car jump forward as Edward floored the accelerator again.

"What happened?" I asked, whipping my head back, straining to see. Receding in the distance was a car accident.

"The last one just got smashed by another car." Edward said, his eyes still glued to the road. "It wasn't a lucky coincidence."

I frowned. "You think someone hit the guy chasing us on purpose?"

"While I'd like to believe it was divine intervention, I'm positive the red car hit our pursuer on purpose."

"Emmett?"

"No, he's doing something else."

"Then who?" Surely not Jason Jenks. He hadn't struck me as a car chase type. And if it wasn't Emmett, I was at a loss.

"This car is no good to us anymore. In a few miles, there's a car rental place next door to a repair shop. I want you to take this car in for an oil change. Tell them you'll pick up the car tomorrow, and ask to pay in advance. While you're doing that, I'll rent us a car and then come pick you up."

I nodded my agreement, and five minutes later I was finally able to get out of the car. I'd never been so happy to put my feet on solid ground and breathe fresh air. My stomach was still a little queasy from the chase, but I was so relieved to be out of the car that I was able to take deep breaths and let go of some of the stress. Edward took our suitcases out of the trunk and set them next to me. He gave me the keys and then walked briskly toward the Enterprise Rent-a-Car next door. I waited by the car for a service technician.

By the time I handed over my keys and paid, Edward was already pulling in. He had a sleek black sedan with leather seats.

"I guess you ditched the American car, hmm?" I tried for a teasing tone, but my voice wobbled. It didn't help that this was the first time he'd looked me full in the face since the laundromat incident, and I could see his eyes were still inflamed from the Spray N Wash.

"This Inifiniti is the best they had," he said as he threw our stuff in the back seat. He then climbed back into the driver's seat and put us on the road again.

We pulled through a McDonald's drive-through to get lunch and got onto the highway. I expected not to be hungry, especially not for junk food, but I surprised myself. I munched my chicken nuggets and watched as Edward drove with one hand and scarfed down a quarter pounder with the other.

"Pass me some fries?" Edward asked.

I reached into the bag and pulled out a few fries. Edward didn't really have any way to hold them, so I fed them to him. His lips brushed my fingers as he took the last bite, and I forgot all about the Volturi. This was Edward, my Edward, and being with him again was a balm for my soul.

I popped a nugget into my mouth and consciously forced my shoulder muscles to relax. For the moment we were safe, and I was with Edward. I couldn't ask for more than that.

Edward finished his burger, and I handed him a napkin. He used it without taking his eyes off the road, handed it back to me, and then pulled something black and square from his pocket.

"Disposable phone," he said, when he noticed me staring at it. "Can you dial the number on this piece of paper and tell Emmett we're okay?"

He handed me the phone and a wrinkled piece of paper with his neat handwriting on it.

I dialed with a shaky hand. The phone rang once, twice, three times, and then Emmett's voice boomed into my ear.

_Took your time calling, didn't you? Give me a status update_.

"Emmett, hi." His voice was welcome, even though I was pretty sure he was going to chew me out for sneaking off.

I was right. Emmett started cursing a blue streak, and I held the phone away from my ear. I wasn't sure where the volume was on this stripped down phone.

Edward smirked next to me, but he didn't comment.

When Emmett's tirade paused, I put the phone up to my ear and said tentatively, "The status is that we lost the people chasing us and we're now on the highway going to an airport."

_Did you change cars after the chase?_

"Yes."

Edward cut in, "Ask him if he sent someone out here to help us."

I dutifully repeated the question and then repeated it again when Emmett didn't answer right away.

_No, I didn't send anyone. Why?_

"The last car tailing us had a suspicious accident."

After another long pause, where I wondered if the call had been dropped, Emmett replied. _Tell Edward to make sure he changes cars again tonight._

"Okay."

_And you. You!_

"Yes?"

_This isn't over. You better fucking stay alive long enough for me to make you understand how fucking idiotic it was for you to go off on your own. _

"Emmett, I'm sorry you were worried, but I…"

_Save it. We'll talk later. Unless something goes wrong, I don't plan to hear from you two until February._

Emmett ended the call, and I just sat there, holding the phone as I processed that last comment.

"Emmett said _you two_ like we were going to be together until the trial," I said slowly to Edward.

"Unless you run away again," Edward said, "that's the plan."

I swallowed back tears, and I wasn't sure whether they were happy or sad.

The blue-green water shimmered in the late afternoon sun. The sky was blue all around us, and wisps of clouds dotted the horizon.

"Where are we going?"

"Somewhere sunny."

"Edward—"

"Not now, Amy."

I belatedly realized I'd called him the wrong name. We weren't Edward and Bella or even Edward and Marie. We were Steven and Amy, and we had the pilot as an audience. Since he was in the cockpit, I didn't think he could hear us over the noise of the engine, but my carelessness was scary.

I regretted boarding the plane. Well, part of me did. The other part of me was too happy to see Edward to be rational.

In the Laundromat, I'd been so overjoyed to see Edward that I hadn't stopped to think. He'd asked me to get on a plane, so I did. In retrospect, I could see that I'd erased everything I'd worked for. It wasn't only me who was in danger; now, it was Edward, too.

I ached to tell him everything. To explain how I wanted, no needed, him to be safe. But none of the words I could say were ones that we could afford to have overheard. So I sat and stared out the window at the beautiful water.

Hours later, we touched down in a small, island airport. We said goodbye to the pilot, and I plastered a fake smile on my face. Edward led me through the streets where people spoke accented English and then into a cab that took us to a harbor.

I hated boats. The boat Edward led me to was not a yacht, but it wasn't small. It was big enough to have an interior room sheltered from the sea spray, which was a little bit of a relief.

Edward helped me step onto the boat and then proceeded to untie it from the pier.

"Aren't we going to wait for a captain?"

Edward grinned, the first true grin I had seen from him since we reconnected.

"That would be me." He laughed at the look on my face. "Don't worry, I've steered many a boat through water fiercer than this." He gestured out to the water, where barely existent waves lapped against the dock.

We started to drift in the harbor, and my queasiness returned.

Instead of focusing on the water, I turned my attention to Edward. He moved through the cabin with ease, checking gauges and making sure the life jackets were where they were supposed to be. When we started moving, I closed my eyes so as not to see the shore moving.

When we were on the water, it was better. I left the cabin to go up on deck. The wind whipped my hair, which had grown out enough to brush my shoulders. I was bursting with my desire to talk to Edward, so I was a little surprised that he didn't even turn around when I approached him. The Edward I remembered would have already been engaging me in conversation.

I approached him and tapped his shoulder hesitantly because I wanted to be near him and talk to him. He turned around to face me, but seeing his expression stopped the words on my tongue. The inflammation in his eyes had faded, but his brow was furrowed and his lips were pressed into a thin line.

This was not the joyful reunion of lovers I anticipated. I missed the way his love could warm me to the tips of my toes, the way his passion could light me up inside. Somehow, I assumed being near him would bring back those things as though no time passed. And they were back… for me.

"Did you need something, Marie?" Edward asked.

I blinked quickly to keep tears from welling because he was talking to me like I was a stranger. He wasn't being unkind, but no easy familiarity graced his tone. It reminded me of the first time we met; that awkward introduction we had in front of Jake and Emmett the day I arrived at his house.

Instead of words of undying love and affection, I found myself saying instead, "How long are we on the boat?"

"We have another couple of hours, so make yourself comfortable."

I heard the words he didn't say. He didn't say, _Make yourself comfortable with me_ or _come sit with me and tell me everything_. No. He was dismissing me. The sting was too much. I fled before he could see the tears spill over.

Eventually we pulled into a narrow inlet, and Edward helped me climb out of the boat. The island was more than secluded; it was deserted.

"Where are we?"

"An island I borrowed."

I blinked. "You can borrow an island?"

Edward looked around appraisingly. "It's not as nice my family's island, but it will do."

There was a time when hearing Edward say something like that would unnerve me, but by now I was well used to the excesses of the Cullen family.

It was a short but brutal hike uphill from the inlet to a small house. Edward turned on the generator, and we spent the first fifteen minutes of our arrival turning things on and making things livable. The kitchen was filled with top-of-the-line cooking implements, but there was no perishable food.

"Um, Edward?" I opened an empty pantry and frowned. "I don't mean to difficult, but do you know what we'll eat while we're here?"

Edward sighed. "I wanted us to have real food, but that was too risky. There's a huge stash of camping food in the cellar, and we'll live off that."

"Like, you just add water?"

"Heat is involved too, but that's the basic concept. Even I can cook it."

"So I guess that means we can share kitchen duty," I said, trying to keep things light.

He didn't respond.

The thing I wanted more than anything was to be close to Edward. So of course, my luck being what it was, it was completely out of reach. He avoided me after we arrived, spending his time focused on his laptop instead. He even put us in separate bedrooms. We were face-to-face for dinner, but it was an awkward affair. Shortly after we ate, Edward said he had to work and disappeared into his bedroom.

I was sinking back into depression. Though I knew he would move on after I was gone, his love had been an anchor for me. Now I felt myself drifting and alone. I went to bed early, the sound of the surf lulling me into an uneasy slumber.

The next morning at breakfast, I decided the current state of affairs was unacceptable. I could barely handle being alienated from Edward yesterday, and there was no way I was going to be able to handle it for the duration of our time in this house. Each time I picked up my Tang to take a sip, I set the cup back on the table with more force than necessary, trying to goad Edward into paying attention to me. When that failed, I took to letting the spoon to my strawberries and cream oatmeal clatter onto the glass table. Edward remained impassive in the face of my childish display of temper.

There was no course of action left but to talk.

"That's it! I can't take it anymore. Why can't you treat me like a person?"

Slowly, Edward looked up from his book. He gave me a long look that made me feel ungrateful.

"I wasn't aware you were being mistreated," he said, piercing me with his gaze.

I blushed with shame in spite of his frosty tone. I suddenly couldn't remember if I'd thanked him for his efforts on my behalf. Confrontations were not my strong suit. "Of course I'm not mistreated. What I mean is, why are you being so distant?"

Edward kept eye contact with me, but he didn't speak immediately. I wasn't sure he was going to speak. I wanted to look away from him, but if all he was going to give me was eye contact, I was going to savor it. Two days ago, I would have given anything to see his face again, friendly or not.

Edward looked away first. He closed his book with authority and stood up. "Are you asking why things are different between us now than they were when you left?"

"Yes," I blurted.

"Could it be you've forgotten you broke up with me?"

"But surely you knew I couldn't stop loving you." At his impassive expression, I added desperately, "I left to protect you."

"You left an impersonal letter and your engagement ring on the kitchen table. What was I supposed to think?"

"You were supposed to have faith in us." As I said the words, I realized how incredibly unfair I was being. He was supposed to move on and get over our relationship. My days were numbered, and he deserved to be happy.

Edward let out a mirthless chuckle. "Faith? Where was your faith in us? I would have taken you away to keep you safe, Marie, but you couldn't wait for that. You preferred to sneak away with the damn gardener and stay in cheap motels."

I was speechless.

Edward picked up his book and walked away from me.

"Stop calling me Marie!" I called out after his retreating form, but he kept walking. You would have thought, after all the things that had happened, that I would be thrilled to hear my real name on his lips, but all it did was push us further apart. I'd really grown fond of being _Bella_. Sad as it was, Bella had more of a life with the Cullens than Marie had ever had on her own.

My oatmeal looked lumpy and unappetizing, and the Tang coated my throat in a way that made me want to gag. I'd assumed when I left that Edward would know why I was leaving. It never occurred to me he would doubt my love for him. All this time, I'd been out suffering, but at least I knew he loved me. He'd had no such assurances from me.

How long were his nights, if he spent our whole time apart wondering if what we'd had was real or fake?

Sometimes the way life works is funny. I don't mean funny, as in _haha_; no, I mean funny like cruel. When I first moved into Edward's house, I was full of doubts and second guessed everything. I never knew what was real and what was fake when I dealt with Edward. And just when I started to think things were real, he went off and kissed Tanya in the middle of a dance floor.

But things had been real between us. They always were; I could see that now. It took months for me to accept it and for our love to bloom. Maybe communication wasn't our strong suit, but time was ticking away. I couldn't waste what little we had without Edward knowing the depth of my love for him.

I chased after him.

In the movies, whenever someone chases after their one true love, they always catch up with them and have a touching reunion. And then everyone cheers. Two problems with this: 1) I chased after Edward, but I couldn't find him, and 2) no one was around to cheer even if I did. Flush with my desire to straighten out Edward, I consoled myself that he'd turn up for dinner.

Except he didn't. I searched the house for him. When I couldn't find him, I located a flashlight and checked near the house. I thought of going down the steep hill to the beach, but that seemed unwise in the dark. It wouldn't do anyone any good if I broke my ankle going down the hill. As far as I knew, Edward and I were the only souls on the island.

I had another restless night. Edward was still gone in the morning, and I started to worry that maybe he fell and broke his leg on that hill. After breakfast, I put on my tennis shoes, which were my only shoes, and went outside.

The first thing I realized was that fall/winter clothes were not appropriate on a tropical island.

The next thing I realized was that the hill the house was set upon was really, really steep. I thought it was a challenge to go up the hill yesterday, but I quickly realized going down was more dangerous. After making it a few steps, I went back to the house to grab water and snack food. Who knew how long it would take me to make it back up the hill once I made it down?

After several slips, one trip, but no serious falls, I was on the beach. The sand was powdery white, though the occasional piece of seaweed had washed up on the shore. After being sheltered by the cover of the trees, the glare of the mid-morning sun on the water was almost too much.

It took me a while, but I eventually spotted Edward in a cove just off the beach. He was sprawled out on a rock like he was dead. His torso draped over the rock, and his legs dangled in the water. There was no way a dead person could have made it to the rock, so I took heart from that. And he had no shirt on, which affected my heart in a different way. The cove was filled with water, and the rock was in the middle of a shallow pool. I would have to get wet to make it out to him.

I kicked off my shoes and socks and rolled up my pant legs. The first step into the water was a pleasant surprise. Water was supposed to be cold, but this water was warm. There were no rocks to speak of. The bottom was all sand.

It was my first time in the ocean. At least, I assumed this was the ocean. My pants were rolled up to my knees, but they were wet anyway. Most of the waves were tiny, lapping innocently at my shins, but every so often a slightly more ambitious wave would come up above my knees.

I tried to be quiet as I made my way over to Edward. I didn't want to startle him, and I definitely wanted him to be around long enough to hear me out.

He heard me coming. The sound of the surf was negligible once I made it into the shelter of the cove, and my small splashes were magnified as I made my way forward. He didn't move, but I was close enough that I could see his body tense as I closed in on his location.

"Edward," I started.

His arm was over his face, so I couldn't see his eyes.

"Marie," he replied, his voice drawing out the two syllables. Was he drunk?

Marie. The name was strange coming from his lips. Either he didn't hear me when I said I didn't want to be called Marie, or he didn't care. The latter seemed more likely—he was putting distance between us.

I wasn't sure how to start, so I said the first thing that came to mind. "Did you sleep out here?"

At this, he moved his arm so I could see one green eye lit by the harsh sun. "What if I did?" He moved his arm back, obscuring his face again.

His voice slurred a little on the last word. He was drunk. This was new. I'd seen him drunk once before, but we were both drinking heavily that night. A smile tugged at my lips as I remembered the drunken game of Truth or Dare we played together. It felt like ages ago, because it was before the deposition. It was back when the trial seemed far away.

I wasn't sure how to respond to drunk Edward, so I took the time to look around. The cove was partially sheltered by a rock overhang. The water was clear and still. Morning sun streamed in, illuminating part of the cove. Small yellow fish darted around my ankles. Sand squished between my toes. Edward brought me here, wherever here was. He knew I'd always dreamed of coming somewhere like this, and he brought me here even though he wasn't sure I still loved him. My heart melted into a puddle for him, drunk or not.

I approached Edward and set the water bottle on the rock next to him. "I brought you some water."

The sun illuminated a piece of his arm bright white, as well as part of his forehead. The rest of him was in shadow. Perhaps he was in the cove to take shelter from the sun? The sun was bright and fierce as noon approached, and if I had been thinking, sunscreen would have been a good idea before I came out here.

Edward moved his arm, revealing his beautiful eyes to me again. "What are you doing down here?" he asked.

"I came to apologize."

He arched an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I've been living in my head so much since I left, I didn't think very much about where your head must be. I'm sorry I broke up with you in a letter. I did it because I love you, and I couldn't bear the idea that you and your family might be in danger because of me. My intentions were good, but I see now how it hurt you that I didn't come to you and talk to you first. But I was afraid if I told you my plan, you would stop me."

"I would have."

"So that was why I did it."

"That's what Rosalie said."

"She was right."

"I'm sure she'll rub it in when we get home."

I winced at his choice of words. We were staying here until the trial, and after the trial, well, there was no reality I could envision where it would be safe for me to spend time with Rosalie and the rest of Edward's family.

"And I thought you'd be better off without me," I added softly. Whether he heard me over the ambient noise was unclear.

I had nothing left to say, though, so silence stretched between us, long and taut like a rubber band waiting to snap. When I couldn't take the tension anymore, I turned to go back to the house. I wanted him more than anything, but if he didn't want me, I'd respect his desire for distance.

I took two steps away, and the water splashed around my calves. Edward flung an arm out and grabbed my wrist. I turned back to look at him. He was looking at me, too.

"I wasn't," he said.

"Huh?" I was transfixed by his face. I'd missed him so much, and the shadows in the cove emphasized every contour of his face.

"I wasn't better off without you."

I turned around and went back to him. Before I could stop myself, I kissed him. He smelled like tequila and tasted worse, but I didn't care. He was Edward, and I loved him. His hands moved to grip my waist, and he pulled me closer to him.

There was a splash next to me. The water bottle had fallen off the rock into the water. I didn't pick it up, as I was afraid to move away from Edward. If this kiss was the last one we had, I wasn't going to miss out on it.

Edward broke the kiss but didn't release me. I rested my head on his chest. His heart thumped beneath my ear. My fingers trailed over his abs. He'd lost some weight, as though maybe he wasn't eating properly, but he still felt strong and solid.

"Are you wearing sunscreen?" he murmured.

"No…"

"Me neither. Let's go in the house before you burn."

"Okay." I stood up and looked down at him, still splayed on the rock. I retrieved the water bottle from the water and put it in the crook of Edward's arm, where a few drops of salt water landed. The droplets meandered down the curve of his bicep. I'd always considered myself an astute observer of Edward Cullen, but our time apart brought everything about him into even sharper relief.

He propped himself up on an elbow and gave me a lopsided grin. "Thanks for the water." He twisted off the cap and took a long swig. I watched his Adam's apple as he drank. He downed the water faster than I would have thought possible. He stood and offered me his arm, and we splashed out of the cove together.

Hot and sweaty, we entered the house. It had been designed to let crosswinds flow through, but no crosswind was going to cool me off after that hard hike up the hill.

"Shower?" I asked with what I hoped was a suggestive yet sexy look.

Edward shook his head. "I need some time to think, Bella."

I tried not to look too crestfallen. He'd called me Bella again, and that was enough.

**Thursday, December 25, 2008**

I didn't realize it was Christmas until I came down the stairs and discovered Edward had decorated the house with island greenery. It looked more tropical than Christmassy, but I was touched anyway. We didn't exchange gifts, but in honor of the holiday, we pulled out a whole selection of freeze-dried desserts from the pantry. The raspberry cobbler was better than I expected.

Things between us were not tense, but they weren't normal, either. We chatted with each other like we used to, but there was no touching. Several times that day I stopped myself from brushing Edward's hair off his forehead. It wasn't something I remembered doing that often when we were together, and I couldn't figure out if my desire to do it now was because his hair was longer or because I wanted an excuse to touch him.

He wanted time to think. I could appreciate that, rationally, but time was ticking down at an alarming rate. How many days did we have together? I didn't want to spend them this way, but I accepted it was my fault he needed time. How would I have felt if he'd left me with a note? I would have been broken. I never could have imagined Edward broken, and the idea that something I did upset his equilibrium so much shocked me. Maybe he really had loved me as much as I loved him.

**Thursday, January 1, 2009**

2009. The year I would testify against the Volturi. Possibly the last year of my life. Not that I was morbid or anything. Even if it weren't the last year of my life, it was the last year of my acquaintance with Edward. The trial would change everything between us, and so I selfishly made a New Year's resolution that this was the day I would win Edward back. I craved him, and I was pretty sure he craved me, too. Two days ago, I caught him watching me as I waded out into the water. When he saw me notice, he looked away. Yesterday, he reached out like he was going to touch my shoulder but then pulled back.

We were like dry twigs rubbing together, except there was nowhere near enough rubbing for my taste. There was the occasional spark, but it was just going to take a little bit more friction to turn us into a roaring blaze of passion. Maybe _roaring blaze of passion_ was a bit of an overstatement, but by this point I not only craved Edward, but I was desperate for the physical release of sex. After years of living without sex, it seemed odd that just a few short months of having sex could change me so profoundly, but now that I'd had it, I didn't want to live without it. And sex with Edward, well, I didn't want to think about it too much until I knew for sure it was going to happen again.

As I trekked down the stairs, I mentally prepared myself for two things. The first was that I wasn't going to throw myself at Edward. The ball was in his court. If he still wanted me, he had to let me know. The second was that it was another day of freeze-dried meals. They'd seemed perfectly adequate at first, and some of them were even decent, but now I'd sampled all the different kinds we had. The idea of more freeze-dried food today was unappetizing, and the idea of eating freeze-dried food until the trial turned my stomach.

I expected to see Edward in the kitchen, but the kitchen was empty.

"Edward?" I called out. He had to be somewhere. He never overslept. I was never the first one awake.

There was no reply.

Maybe he was still in bed. I considered going up to check his bedroom, but that seemed like a breach of privacy. He was entitled to sleep in, right? Right.

I ate my pasty oatmeal with flecks of fruit in it at the table by myself and then found a book to read. After another hour, I started to get worried. There was no way Edward could still be sleeping.

I crept upstairs and opened his door as quietly as possible to peer into his room. The bed was made, which either meant he'd never slept in it last night or he made it this morning.

Where was he? I went into my own room and changed into a swimsuit and shorts. Life was much better since I discovered a small selection of summery clothes in the closet. The hike down to the beach seemed slightly less treacherous this time around, and I wondered if I would get used to it. Edward had to be down here somewhere. It was an island, after all. The first place I checked was the cove I found him in the other day. I hoped he wasn't drinking on that rock again.

Nothing.

After I prowled the beach for a while looking, I saw a boat approaching the inlet.

My first instinct was panic. Could whoever was on the boat see me on the shore? I made it as far as the trees to hide before recognizing the boat. It was the boat that brought us here.

Even knowing it was our boat, I was still nervous. I stuck to the cover of the trees until I saw Edward disembark. He was wearing a hat and carrying a cooler.

I was walking toward him before I realized I was moving.

"There you are!"

At my voice, Edward turned and grinned. It was the happiest expression I'd seen from him since he rescued me. His looked like himself again. I sped up so I could reach him faster. He set down the cooler and caught me up in his arms.

"Happy New Year, Bella," he said into my ear.

The dual sensation from his long-denied touch and his soft voice in my ear made me shudder in happiness.

He set me down and picked up the cooler.

"Where were you?"

He grinned again, and his eyes twinkled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

I laughed then, because his mood was infectious. "Okay then. Keep your secrets. I'll find out eventually."

"All in good time," he said.

Edward asked me to give him a head start up the hill so he could put away whatever surprise was in the cooler. I dutifully walked along the beach for a little while before heading back up to the house. As I climbed the hill, I realized it was the first time I'd managed to do so without getting winded. I was getting strong again. That made me smile, though anything would have made me smile after seeing Edward look like himself again.

I stepped into the house and gave a happy sigh as crosswinds blew the house and cooled the light sheen of perspiration that had gathered on my skin during my hike back up the hill. Mellow jazz music was playing, and Edward was reading a newspaper in a leather chair in the corner of the living room. His shoes were off, and his ankle was balanced on his knee. He should have looked at ease, but instead he was vibrating with energy.

My lips twitched into an almost-smile. Something was different. Something good. "What's gotten into you?"

His eyes met mine over the top of the newspaper. They were the lightest green I'd ever seen them, and I wondered if it was just because of the tropical sunlight filtering through the sheer curtains or if it was more a function of his mood. The latter seemed more likely, but we never had this kind of sun in Seattle, so it was hard for me to know for sure.

We ate more freeze-dried food for lunch. We didn't talk to each other, but it wasn't a bad silence. It was more thoughtful, though I confess I wasn't thinking about much other than whether it would be inappropriate to throw myself at Edward. I wanted to touch him again.

I pushed my chair out to leave the dining room table, but Edward laid his hand on my wrist. That was all I needed. I was done waiting.

I pulled my hand out from under his and cradled his face with my hands. "I love you, Edward Cullen, and I always, always will."

Then I kissed him. Initially, he didn't respond, and I wondered if maybe I had read everything wrong. I stopped the kiss to pull back and look into his beautiful eyes. This was a time for clarity if ever there was one. I wanted to leave no shade of doubt to fester in his mind.

"There is no one else. There will never be anyone else. I treasure all the time we've spent together, and I would give anything to spend the rest of our time together in blissful—"

Edward pulled my head back to his. Our mouths crashed together, drowning out my words. The kiss was alternately hard and yielding. His mouth was warm and soft and much more appealing than the tequila-soaked kiss I'd been replaying in my head for the last several days. My hands tangled into his hair; his fingertips pressed into the side of my face. I soaked in all the sensations, my breath coming faster than necessary.

Abruptly, Edward stopped kissing me and pulled me to my feet. "We're not going to do this at the table."

A giggle burbled out of me. Of course we wouldn't do it at the table. It wouldn't be proper, not when we could sex each other to oblivion on the couch or the bed or somewhere more comfortable. Sex was going to happen, and my whole body thrummed in anticipation.

"And yes," Edward said as he pulled me along into the living room.

"Yes?" I queried, so lost in the thrill of the moment that I couldn't fathom what he might mean.

"Yes," Edward murmured again in my ear, "to everything you said before."

The words flooded me with warmth, but his fingers trailing on my neck and down to the buttons on my shirt made me shiver. The combination of the two was almost overwhelming, and we'd barely begun.

One button opened, and then two more. I was transfixed watching his fingers. The cool breeze from the crosswinds raised gooseflesh on my skin. With the last button, my shirt fluttered open. While Edward stared at my bra, I started to work on his buttons. He wore a Hawaiian shirt that I had seen him wear a few times. I'd always admired it on him, but now the buttons made my fingers clumsy.

Edward didn't seem to mind my fumbling. He was grinning as he watched me, and that made me even clumsier. As I got down toward the last two buttons and I was confronted with his muscled chest in my line of sight, I gave the shirt a sharp yank, and the last two buttons popped off.

Edward gave a throaty laugh that made my stomach somersault. With a shove, I pushed him down so he was sitting on the couch. I straddled his lap and kissed him.

"Impatient, are you?" he teased.

"You've kept me waiting long enough," I said between kisses. I could feel him underneath me through my skirt, and each shift in position brought me a bit closer to nirvana.

Suddenly, there was more than just Edward's torso under my skirt. His fingers were there, too, pulling off my underwear. I leaned back and let his fingers caress me. I was so warm, so happy, and I arched my back into the sensations rushing through me. His other hand was busy unfastening my bra, and when his mouth closed over my nipple, I was gone.

All the uncertainties and miseries since I'd met Edward fell away.

When Edward entered me, I felt something new and different. I felt bliss. And when he hit that spot inside of me over and over again, I was carried completely away.

The whole day was a blur, capped off by real food for dinner. Edward's little trip in the boat this morning had been to buy us food. It wasn't a lot of food, since that might draw attention, but there was lasagna and bread and a flourless chocolate cake—and it was all so good that we did end up having sex in the dining room. Who would have though food could taste so good? And with food and Edward together, it was all even better.

**Sunday, January 4, 2009**

We subsisted on orgasms and proclamations of love for approximately seventy-two hours. We could only shut everything out for so long. I gladly would have continued to live in denial, because other than the camping food, things were practically perfect. The Beatles said love is all you need, and I was inclined to agree.

It was Edward who let reality intrude into our bed.

We were together, tangled in the sheets after a post-lunch sexing, when he said, "You can never leave me like that again."

"Hmm?" I wasn't at all in the mood to discuss reality, and I hoped we could maybe skip this conversation.

"I mean it, Bella. You can't do that to me again."

I swallowed and took a deep, calming breath. Yes, I felt guilt, lots of guilt about leaving Edward. And, in retrospect, now that I knew we could have been here on this island this whole time, I wondered if maybe I'd made a mistake, but he didn't seem to understand. My days were dwindling, and I loved him too much to drag him down with me. I also loved him too much to let him go, and that was how I'd ended up in bed with him now. There was no clear right thing for me to do, and it would destroy me if I thought about it too hard.

"Edward, I'm so sorry I left you that way." I could say that much. That much was true. "But you can't ask me not to do whatever I think is right. I'm pretty much doomed, but you could still escape this mess and be okay."

Edward chuckled darkly. "Will you listen to yourself? You think I can 'escape' and 'be okay.'" He ran his fingers through his hair and let out an explosive sigh that I cringed back from. "Bella, I don't want to be 'okay.' I love you. Letting go of you so you can be doomed, or whatever you want to call it, is not an option. I need to know you'll let me help you and be with you all the way until the end."

"Edward…" my voice trailed off, uncertain. "You know I love you. I would do anything for you."

Edward rolled out of bed, and I felt the chill of his absence. I stared at his backside as he left the room, unsure if he was coming back.

Could I really let myself pull him completely into the mess? A little voice in my head told me he was already knee-deep in it, so why not let him all the way in?

Edward reappeared in the doorway a couple minutes later with a package in his hand. I didn't know what he was holding, but my heart beat a little faster because of the purposeful way he was looking at me. He walked slowly over to the bed and pulled me to a sitting position. The sheet fell away from me, exposing me completely to his view. Then he knelt on the floor, naked and beautiful. My heart was in my throat.

"I wasn't going to do this until later, but I think now is the time."

I stared down him, trying to keep my breathing steady. He pulled up the package, and from the package he extracted a navy blue velvet box.

Edward looked up at me earnestly and said in a clear, soft voice, "Bella Marie Swan, will you marry me?"

He opened the box and to reveal a ring.

I was too dumbstruck to say anything immediately. And I kind of loved the way _Bella Marie Swan_ sounded. I was simultaneously touched and horrified all at once. I blurted, "You don't want to marry me."

Edward sighed. "If this is going to work between us, you need to stop telling me what I want and what I can do. We're adults. We make our own choices." He reached up a hand to angle my chin so we held eye contact. "I choose you."

My eyes closed. He was offering me something I wanted more than anything, but what kind of person would I be to take it?

"Edward, even after the trial, no matter how it goes, I'll never be free."

"Bella," Edward said softly, insistently, "I don't want to be apart from you. Even if the worst were to happen and all we would have is right now, I would want this. I want you."

Tears threatened to spill out, so I kept my eyes shut tightly as I gave my last rebuttal. "But your life is in Seattle, with your family."

"I choose you."

A tear escaped, and I opened my eyes to look down into his sure, unwavering gaze. "You know you're giving up everything."

"Not everything."

His words slowly sunk in, and I responded with the only three words that convey the depth of my feelings: "I love you."

He crooked up a corner of his mouth in a cocky grin, "So is that a yes?"

I tried to say yes, but my voice came out all soft and broken. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Yes!"

"Now that's more like it." Edward's eyes sparkled. "Why don't you try it on?"

I turned my attention to the ring, which I had barely glanced at, having assumed it was the same ring I'd been wearing before. This ring was nothing like my old ring. My old ring had been huge and sparkly and modern looking, and this one was obviously from a different era. There was complicated filigree work flecked with tiny diamonds, and a modest but sparkly center stone.

"Oh," I said, still not having regained all my faculties.

"You can have your old ring if you'd prefer, but I picked that one out for a stranger. This one was my grandmother's, and I thought you might like it better. It's smaller, but—"

I cut him off. "I love it. I'll treasure it."

He smiled at me then, a real smile that lit up his eyes.

"You're crazy, you know that?" I told him with a shake of my head, because he was. Only a crazy person would see my mess as an opportunity to make a life-long commitment.

"I disagree. This is the first sane, rational thing I've done. I should have proposed long ago, when I first realized I wanted forever with you."

"Forever might not be very long, Edward."

He sighed. "We really need to work on your outlook on life."

"Edward," I started, but he put his finger over my lips.

"Don't. I don't want to hear another negative word about the future cross your lips while we're here. We've got a little time now before the trial. If this is the last time we'll have together, let's not waste it. And while we're on that subject, I see no reason to assume this is the last time we'll have together. You're going to become a Cullen in the near future, and Cullens don't lose."

I digested that for a moment, letting my eyes roam over his face. He really believed we would have a future. He was either deluded or had reason for confidence. I let myself bask in his confidence.

"Does this mean that we're not going to talk about the Volturi at all? Because there are some things I haven't had a chance to tell you yet." I thought about my suspected relationship to Aro and winced. Maybe I should have mentioned that nasty tidbit before I accepted his proposal.

"Of course we're still going to talk about it," Edward said. "I have things to tell you, too. But I want us to operate from the perspective that winning is possible. Because if this is a game, and winning means having a happily ever after with you..."

He kissed my nose, smiled, and said, "I intend to win."


End file.
